


Just a favor

by follow_your_fire



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bottom Arthur, Dirty Talk, Experimentation, First time with a man, Fluff, Gay For You, It's all Gwaine's fault, M/M, Pining, Roommates, Straight Arthur, Top Merlin, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29216271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/follow_your_fire/pseuds/follow_your_fire
Summary: "You can’t just go and pick up a stranger and ask him to fuck you! You know how dangerous that is?! You don’t even like guys, you’re just curious!”“Not a stranger, you bumpkin,” Arthur says incredulously. “You.”
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 152
Kudos: 547





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Merin Fic Book Club that keeps feeding my dirty soul.
> 
> Inspired by [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23321551)
> 
> Unbeta'd

“What the fuck, Gwaine? I’m not doing that!”

Of all Gwaine’s crazy ideas, this one takes the cake.

Gwaine gives a one-shouldered shrug, nursing his beer. “You’re missing out.”

“I’m not putting anything in there!” Arthur emphasizes with growing indignation.

Gwaine holds up a finger. “You don’t have to. Not necessarily. It’s not the same, but you can stimulate your prostate by pressing it from the outside. Here, I’ll explain. You just need to find that smooth spot behind your balls and-”

“I’m not talking to you about that!” Arthur insists, crossing his arms on his chest and pouting.

Gwaine lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Suit yourself.”

***

Arthur barges into Gwaine’s flat two days later without a greeting. “Can we talk?”

Gwaine gives him a quick once-over, then his lips spread into a shit-eating grin. Arthur immediately hates it. “You tried it, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” he scowls.

“You liked it!”

“Gwaine!”

“It’s even better if you put your fingers there,” Gwaine continues matter-of-factly.

“I can’t imagine it feels anything but weird,” Arthur argues weakly.

“Just give it a shot, will ya?”

***

“I know that look,” Gwaine points out smugly when he joins Arthur on the couch later that week.

“Shut up,” Arthur spits out, begrudgingly accepting the beer Gwaine’s handing out to him.

Gwaine leans into his space and says conspiratorially, “It can get even better.”

***

Arthur lost count of how many times he’s chickened out from clicking the check-out button. One look at the items in his basket and he’s right where he started.

“Fuck this shit.”

***

He knows it’s a bad idea. A stupid idea, on top of that. Not only is Merlin his best friend, he’s also his roommate. What if Arthur makes everything so weird Merlin will want to move out?

No, that won’t happen. It’s Merlin. Funny, accepting, understanding, wonderful Merlin. If he won’t do it, no one will.

***

“I did a thing,” Arthur announces in lieu of a greeting when Merlin gets home in the afternoon.

“You did a-” Merlin starts, cutting himself off. A look of terror passes across his face and he runs to the kitchen. “For everything that’s holy, Arthur, please, tell me you didn’t try to cook an egg in the microwave again.”

Arthur throws his hands in the air. “Jesus Christ, will you ever let me live it down? It was just once!”

“Once is enough to last a life-time. You nearly blew the whole floor up.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

Merlin huffs exasperatedly. “You were saying?”

“Oh. Right,” Arthur clears his throat, bracing himself. “So, I did a thing.”

“So you said.”

“Shut up, Merlin,” he admonishes, averting his eyes. “I did a thing,” he repeats. “It wasn’t my idea - Gwaine suggested it.”

Merlin’s unimpressed face speaks volumes. “I think putting an egg in the microwave is lesser evil than considering anything that comes out of Gwaine’s mouth.”

“That’s what I thought, too. But...”

“But?” Merlin prompts, joining Arthur on the couch and propping his legs on the coffee table.

“He kinda... had a point? And now I’m... um... a bit out of my depth.” He knows he’s not explaining himself well, but how do you bring something like this up?

“Would you just spit it out?” Merlin cries. “Seriously, Arthur, since when do you play coy? You tell me the weirdest shit. There’s not enough bleach in the world to erase all the unsolicited information you’ve fed me in the past years.”

Arthur _does not_ sulk. “I thought we’re best friends, we tell each other everything.”

“Well, then.” Merlin makes a sweeping gesture. “Why are you being so evasive?”

“I’m not-” he starts to object, then realizes that’s exactly what he’s doing. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“If it’s something really funny, I might, but not in a nasty way,” Merlin teases. “I promise.”

“Okay.” Arthur takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he repeats. “There really is no other way to say it so I guess I’ll just... say it.” Another long inhale. “Itriedfingeringmyself.”

Merlin stares, then blinks, then stares some more. “What?”

“You heard me,” Arthur grunts.

“I don’t think I did,” Merlin says carefully. “What you said sounded an awful lot like: I tried fingering myself.”

God, out loud it sounds even worse than Arthur thought.

“...”

“You tried fingering yourself,” Merlin repeats slowly. Arthur wishes he could shrink himself and hide. This is so fucking embarrassing. “You-” he tries. “I-” Suddenly, his eyes budge out, like he just registered the nature of their conversation. “Why am I listening to this?!” he demands, arms flailing as he regards Arthur with disbelief, cheeks tinted pink.

Huh. At least Arthur’s not the only one who feels embarrassed.

“I thought we tell each other everything!” Arthur shoots back.

“Not everything!” Merlin disagrees resolutely, wiping a hand over his face. “Jesus, Arthur, don’t you know where to draw the line?!”

Merlin sounds genuinely upset, although why he’s reacting so strongly to sex-talk is beyond Arthur. They’ve been through worse. They’ve lived together since Uni for crying out loud. Merlin walked in on Arthur jerking himself off more times than is appropriate for two guys sharing a flat. And Arthur witnessed Merlin blowing some bloke on this very couch. They’ve both seen it all!

Granted, Arthur’s learned to lock the door to his room and the bathroom when he’s... well... indulging in simple pleasures of life. And Merlin learned to keep his sexapades limited to his bedroom. Although, if Arthur remembers correctly, Merlin hasn’t brought anyone home in... months. Maybe half a year? He’s not completely sure. Maybe Merlin’s just being really discreet.

Either way, it doesn’t make sense for Merlin to be upset about something like this. Whatever the reason, Arthur’d better apologize. Best friend or not, Merlin doesn’t need to know _everything_.

“Sorry,” he says, gaze downcast. “This is stupid.” He laughs self-deprecatingly. “I knew it was stupid. I just thought...”

Merlin doesn’t say anything at first, waiting for Arthur to continue. When he doesn’t, he asks, “What?”

“I thought,” Arthur starts reluctantly, now that he witnessed Merlin’s reaction, “since you’re gay, that you- That you’ll get it.”

Merlin’s face scrunches up in confusion. “That I’ll- God, Arthur,” he groans, clearly frustrated. “Yeah, I’m gay. And I’m also your best friend,” he emphasizes. “Which means I don’t need to hear about _anything_ you get up to in your bedroom, whether it involves your ass or not.”

“Oh. Yeah.” God, what was Arthur thinking?! “Of course. That makes sense.” He takes a moment to collect himself. He doesn’t want Merlin to know how bummed he is due to the whole exchange.

“Sorry,” Merlin apologizes this time, voice already softer, sounding more like himself. “I didn’t mean to freak out on you like that.”

” ‘s fine,” Arthur waves a hand dismissively, avoiding Merlin’s gaze. “I don’t know what I was thinking anyway.”

Uncomfortable silence falls over them. Which is unusual in an on itself. They can talk about anything. Well, almost anything, it would seem. But there’s never been an issue with being alone together. It’s not a foreign concept for Arthur to watch The Great British Bake Off while Merlin reads a book next to him. Or for Merlin to do yoga while Arthur makes coffee. Silence has never been a problem. Until now. Now, it just feels wrong.

“Okay,” Merlin speaks first, rough and deep. “I know I’ll most definitely regret asking this, but... how was it?”

“Huh?”

“Did you... like it?” Merlin clarifies. Arthur opens his mouth to answer but nothing comes out. What is he supposed to say? He already made this weird.

Merlin understands anyway. “You did, didn’t you.” Did his voice just drop impossibly deeper?

“Y-yeah,” he confirms, although the answer is painfully obvious. “Gods, Merlin, you have no idea-” He chuckles. “Well, you probably do have an idea. But _I_ had no idea!” he adds. “Sure, Gwaine said it felt great, but I never knew there was like... a magical button that gives you a near death experience. I swear I’ve never come so hard in my life.” He curses internally when he notices Merlin’s expression, face twisted as though he’s in pain. Oh, right. Arthur got carried away. He needs to get himself under control, dammit!

“Uh-huh,” Merlin chokes out. “G-glad you discovered some of the pleasures the gay world has to offer.” The words sound like he was chewing on sandpaper and Arthur has no idea what to make of-

Oh.

_Oh._

Maybe he does. Time to take a leap of faith.

“Actually, I’d like to discover some more.”

As expected, Merlin’s eyes land on his, wide with shock. “What?”

“I'm not saying all this just to brag about my jerk-off practices,” Arthur explains with a scowl. “After Gwaine suggested I try it and... after I did try it,” he gives Merlin a pointed look, “I talked to him about it. I mean, he was the one who talked me into it in the first place, so no judgment from him, right?” He laughs again, shoulders slumping when Merlin doesn’t. “Well, he gave me some more suggestions. You know... like...” He makes a vague gesture.

Merlin’s throat bobs as he swallows before he finishes for him. “Dildos?”

“Y-yeah, that,” Arthur confirms. “And vibrators. Plugs.” He feels his face heat up with each word. “You can imagine.”

“Uh-huh,” Merlin replies non-comittally, trying to make himself look smaller. “So... have you?”

“Have I...?”

“Tried those.”

“No.” He blushes some more. “I wanted to, but... I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Because it was scary?” Merlin assumes. “Maybe you just need to get a smaller size, get used to it and it will-”

Whoa, whoa. Where is this coming from? Now they’re talking?

“No, I mean.” Arthur huffs despairingly. “I didn’t even get so far as to buy any of those.”

“Oh.”

“Gwaine sent me a website that sells all that shit,” he carries on. “I swear I opened and closed the tab like a million times, scrolling through the pages. I even put some stuff in the basket, but... I just couldn’t bring myself to go through with it. It felt weird.”

“Why? Because it would make you gay?” The words have an edge to them, sharp and cold, and Arthur hates it.

“What? No,” he defends. “Come on, Merlin, who do you take me for? I know I can be a jerk, but I’m not that much of a jerk.” The possibility that Merlin could think so little of him after all those years hurts more than he’d expect.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Merlin says, truly apologetic. “So, why didn’t you buy any?” he tries again.

“It felt... strange. Kinda wrong.” He rushes to clarify. “Not wrong because it would make me gay. But because it felt so... unnatural.”

“Unnatural?”

“Yeah. I mean, there’s a difference between having fingers buried in your ass and having a dildo shoved up there.”

“Well, the size-”

“Not the size, you dollophead,” Arthur groans, dropping his face into his hands. God, this is a disaster. How did they end up here again?

Right. It’s Arthur’s fault.

Scratch that. It’s Gwaine’s fault.

Merlin looks most affronted. “Hey! That’s my-”

“I just don’t like the fact that it would be a toy,” Arthur interrupts. “A foreign object, inside my body. A very sensitive part of my body.” He raises his eyebrows to make a point. “Honestly, I have no idea how girls do that. It must feel so weird.”

“Not just girls, you clotpole.” Merlin shakes his head, so done with Arthur.

“Right, I forgot.” Arthur gnaws at his lips. “Then I thought, maybe it would feel more natural if it was with a real person. I briefly considered asking Mithian if she’d be willing to... you know...” Another vague gesture. “She’s always been rather open-minded, but I’m not sure she’d be willing to do that. And to tell the truth, when I imagine it, I don’t really... like it. It would still be a toy in my ass.”

Arthur doesn’t know how it happens, but the air around them shifts, and suddenly it’s easier to talk about this.

“Of course, you’re right,” Merlin agrees, coming out of his shell. “It feels much different from the real thing,” he goes on. “It’s cold, even if you try to warm it up it doesn’t last. And if you’re using your hand, sooner or later you end up with a carpal tunnel. And the angle is all wrong and you get tired doing all the work yourself.” He purses his lips, tapping his chin, deep in thought. “On the other hand, I might be a bit biased. I’ve always preferred to top anyway.”

Arthur does a double-take. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Merlin admits quietly. “Not just because of how it feels physically, although that part _is_ spectacular.” A corner of his mouth lifts up on a little grin and for some inexplicable reason, it makes Arthur’s skin burn. “It’s hot, and tight, and soft. But I love driving my lovers crazy,” he says dreamily, getting this far-away look in his eyes. “I swear, there are few things in the world better than reducing a strong man to a babbling, sobbing mess, trembling with pleasure because it feels so good when I fuck him.”

Arthur lets out a little squeal and can only hope Merlin doesn’t hear it. Merlin rarely swears and hearing that word fall out of his mouth, _in that context_ , should be illegal. A shiver runs down Arthur’s spine and he doesn’t know what to make of it. Merlin carries on before he has a chance to dissect it.

“And I love to take my time, drawing every little noise out of them, until all they can do is repeat my name and beg me to give it to them, to let them come.”

Okay. Okay. Arthur’s officially... flustered.

“You- um,” he stammers, folding his hands in his lap when he feels his cock twitch in response to Merlin’s sensual description. “You never... talk... about that.”

Merlin snaps back to reality, shaking himself off. “Sex?”

“Yeah.” Arthur nods. "But... fucking guys, in particular.”

“Didn’t know you’d be so keen on hearing about that.” Merlin snickers. Then more solemnly, “I didn’t want to freak you out.”

“I’m not freaking out.” He’s sooo freaking out.

“I can see that,” Merlin says, oblivious. “Thanks.”

Okay. This is it. This is Arthur’s chance. And if he doesn’t take it, he’s not gonna get another one. “Actually,” he starts. “I might be... interested?”

Merlin scoffs in disbelief. “You really want to hear about me fucking guys?”

Something ugly twists in Arthur’s gut. _What the hell?_ “No, I mean... I’d be interested in getting a... like, first hand experience.”

Merlin frowns in confusion, cocking his head to the side. “You,” he says, then a horrified expression appears on his face. Arthur feels the bottom of his stomach drop. “For fuck’s sake, Arthur!” Merlin yells, shooting up from the couch. “You can’t just go and pick up a stranger and ask him to fuck you! You know how dangerous that is?! You don’t even like guys, you’re just curious!”

_What. A. Complete. Idiot._

“Not a stranger, you bumpkin,” he says incredulously. “You.”

“Me? What about me?” It takes exactly 2.5 seconds for Merlin to catch up. “Oh my fucking God,” he yells again. “Have you gone mad?!”

This is not good. “Just let me explain-”

“What’s wrong with you?!” Merlin demands with a stormy expression. “You’re my friend! My best friend!”

“Yeah.” That’s what they’ve established several times, isn’t it? “ ‘tis why I’m asking _you_.”

“What?”

“You said it yourself.” Arthur stands up as well, staying in one spot as to not freak Merlin out further. “I can’t just pick up a stranger for a random fuck. I don’t want a stranger.” He throws caution to the wind. “I want you.”

All the fight and indignation bleeds out of Merlin. “W-what?”

“I trust you,” he continues, seizing his chance. “There’s no one else in the world I trust more. It makes sense.”

“How does any of this make sense?!”

“Why are you freaking out so much?” Arthur questions, genuinely baffled. “I’d be the one getting my virgin ass fucked.”

A whimper falls out of Merlin’s lips and he takes a step back. “S-stop talking like that.”

“Why? You said yourself that you like to top,” Arthur reasons. Maybe logic is a way to go. “I’m literally offering myself up to you. I’d have no idea what I’d be doing, so you could do whatever you wanted with me.”

At that, Merlin positively _whines._ “Seriously, Arthur, just shut up.”

“I promise nothing would change,” Arthur ignores his pleas. “It would be a friend helping a friend out. That simple.”

“There’s nothing simple about this!” Merlin snaps. “We could never go back and-” He holds his hands up. “You know what? Why am I even talking about this? This is not happening. I’m not fucking you. Ever.”

Arthur finds it harder to breathe, unknowing why Merlin’s rejection hits him so hard. “Why not?”

“Because!” Merlin screams. “Because it’s you!”

Oh. So that’s why. Of course it is. What the hell was Arthur thinking?

“Oh,” he says out loud, hoping it sounds less defeated than he feels. “I get it. Of course you wouldn’t want me.”

“What?” Merlin asks in his normal voice.

“Just look at me,” Arthur laughs self-deprecatingly. “I don’t have any experience. Not in this. I would definitely mess it up. I wouldn’t even know what to do.” So, so stupid. “And I know that girls find me attractive, but that doesn’t mean you do. You probably have a totally different type. Someone like Lance.” He knows it was a long time ago. Lance had been friends with Merlin long before Arthur came along. And he knows that was just one, stupid, drunken make-out session between the two. But he also knows Merlin has always found Lance attractive. Hell, Arthur finds him attractive. The guy is hot, anyone with eyes can see that. Unfortunately, he’s also Arthur’s polar opposite. Both looks and personality-wise.

“I’m sorry,” he continues before Merlin can get a word in edge-wise, “for springing this on you. I’ll just... go... somewhere.” Anywhere that’s not here. Or Gwaine’s. The twat is gonna pay for this. It’s all his fault anyway.

He walks around the couch, making sure his phone is in his pocket and grabs his keys.

“Arthur!” Merlin bolts from where he’s been rooted to the spot, running after Arthur and taking him by the arm when he gets to him. He pulls on his arm, prompting Arthur to look at him. Arthur doesn’t dare, the shame inside him burning strong.

“You must be joking, right?” Merlin says, confusing Arthur further.

“Which part?” he asks without looking at him.

“Come on, you must,” he laughs hollowly, “you must know how gorgeous you are.”

_Wait, did he just...?_

“I-I... what?” He slowly turns around.

“Don’t be stupid,” Merlin stresses, still gripping Arthur’s arm. “You’re ridiculously beautiful. Everything about you is. You look like a freaking demigod, for fuck’s sake.” He sounds annoyed, and it pleases Arthur immensely. “All muscle and broad shoulders. You’re like a bloody warrior.”

“Um,” Arthur replies articulately. Out of all possible outcomes, he did not expect this.

“And there are your stupidly bright, blue eyes, and golden hair, and...” Merlin lets out a loud groan. “Shit, that mouth of yours.”

Arthur’s body moves without his conscious decision, and out of nowhere he finds himself kissing the living daylights out of Merlin. 

Merlin makes a surprised sound, and Arthur feels it re-vibrate in his chest. It’s no wonder, considering how he’s pressing himself against Merlin, licking at his lips, then into his sweet-tasting mouth when it parts on the silent demand.

“Arthur,” Merlin breathes into his mouth. “What are you-”

Arthur pulls away far enough to speak. “You said you liked my mouth?” he explains like it’s the most logical thing in the world.

“I-”

“All the other things you like, you can have it,” he whispers into the space between them, stroking his thumb over the sharp edge of Merlin’s jaw. Merlin’s always clean-shaven, but Arthur already feels his stubble growing, relishing the foreign sensation. “All of it. I’m officially giving you permission to do as you see fit with me.” And to make sure Merlin is safely on board, he adds, “I trust you.”

Given how Merlin presses him desperately against the door and kisses him fiercely, teeth clacking together, he thinks he’s got it covered.

Knowing that he finally got Merlin to go through with this, he lets himself relax and enjoy the moment. Arthur’s never kissed a man before (unless you count a few awkward, silly pecks at high school when he would play Truth or dare with his friends) and it should feel strange, and wrong, and alien. It _is_ a novel feeling, kissing someone who’s just as strong as him, as tall as him. Someone who can keep Arthur in place with the sole strength of his body and take as much as he gives. Yeah, that’s new.

And yet, kissing Merlin feels like the most natural thing in the world. Like they’ve always been doing this.

It’s not as scary as it should be.

“We’re making a huge mistake.” Merlin’s gravelly voice pulls Arthur back from his thoughts, the reality crashing down on him.

“It’s not a mistake,” he argues, stealing another kiss. And another. And one more. “It’s a favor. And I want you to enjoy yourself, too. Even if you’re doing this just because I asked for it, I want you to feel good, too.” And he means it. He wants to see Merlin lose control, to do all those things he talked about before.

“Arthur-” Merlin says warningly, like it costs him something.

“You said you like it when they beg you?” Arthur blurts out in his desperation. He can’t lose Merlin now. “This is me,” he says resolutely. “Begging you to fuck me.” Merlin whimpers again. “Come on, Merlin,” he challenges. ”Just fuck me. He leans in, brushing his lips against Merlin’s, satisfied when it draws a gasp from him. “Please.”

Merlin claims his lips in a bruising kiss, making Arthur whimper in return, and pulls away quickly. “Bedroom. Now,” he orders, and Arthur nearly trips over his feet in his haste to get there. Merlin leads them to Arthur’s bedroom, for whatever reason, and Arthur follows obediently, heart hammering against his ribcage and they haven’t even done anything yet.

Once in the bedroom, Merlin doesn’t waste any time closing the door behind them and pushing Arthur against it again. Arthur gladly lets him take all the control, sinking into Merlin’s arms, sucking the breath out of his lungs.

“Off,” Merlin mumbles into the kiss as his hands scramble over the hem of Arthur’s T-shirt, tugging it up. Arthur obediently lifts his arms, unwilling to break the kiss except for the brief moment where Merlin pulls the T-shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor as though it offends him. Arthur chuckles lightly, tilting his head back when Merlin trails his mouth and tongue behind his ear and down the column of Arthur’s neck. He picks a spot just under Arthur’s jaw and sucks at the tender skin, drawing the blood to the surface. Arthur can’t wait to see what it looks like tomorrow.

“You smell so good,” Merlin praises, barely audible. “You _taste_ so good.” Arthur is pretty sure he can’t taste of anything but skin and fresh sweat, but Merlin’s fucked out voice sends a coil of heat straight to his cock. His knees start to buckle and he holds onto Merlin like a lifeline.

“Bed?” he offers hopefully. Instead of replying, Merlin detaches himself from his neck, locking his gaze with Arthur’s. Arthur nearly swallows his tongue as he takes in Merlin’s red, puffy lips, slightly pink cheeks and blown wide pupils. God, even his hair is a mess, standing up in all directions. Has Arthur been pulling on it? He doesn’t remember.

Merlin takes him by both arms and twirls them around, then walks Arthur backwards until they reach the bed and Arthur topples over, falling on his back. His breath leaves him in a whoosh, and between one blink and the next Merlin all but tears his clothes off of himself. His chest is flushed the same color his cheeks are, and Arthur chokes on his own saliva when Merlin rids himself of his jeans, revealing an impressive bulge to Arthur’s eyes. He’s almost fully hard, Arthur can tell. A part of him screams in apprehension.

For the most part, he feels blood rush to his cock in response to the picture Merlin makes in front of him.

Arthur crawls further on the bed, settling against the pillows comfortably and spreads his legs in invitation.

Merlin makes a guttural sound, a lot like growl, and throws himself on the bed, climbing over Arthur until they are face to face, Merlin’s long arms caging him in.

He places one hand on Merlin’s waist, the other on his neck and pulls him down for a kiss, sighing happily when Merlin obliges. Merlin keeps himself propped with one hand, freeing the other in order to trace nonsensical patterns over Arthur’s skin. He runs his fingers over Arthur’s clavicle, kissing him still, running his hand down his well-defined chest, his softer stomach, placing his palm over his stiff cock.

Arthur’s hips buck up on reflex, and Merlin swallows his surprised gasp straight from his mouth.

“Arthur,” Merlin says, out of breath. “You need to tell me,” he continues with urgency. “Need to tell me if you change your mind.”

“I’m not going to change my mind,” Arthur replies resolutely. “I want it. Want you.”

“Fuck,” Merlin curses, hiding his face in the crook of Arthur’s neck, rubbing his palm over Arthur’s cock. “Can I...?” he asks, hooking two fingers in the waistband of Arthur’s sweats. Arthur nods vigorously, lifting his hips to make it easier for him. Merlin smiles against his lips, then lets out a choking sound when instead of underwear he reveals Arthur’s hard length.

He looks at Arthur questioningly and Arthur answers with a challenging glare, daring Merlin to tease him about going commando. Merlin just shakes his head fondly and dips down to follow the path his hand took with his mouth and tongue. He kisses and licks over Arthur’s neck again, lapping at the few droplets of sweat that have pooled in the hollow of his clavicle. He scatters kisses over Arthur’s chest, stopping to spend some time laving over his pebbled nipple, sucking it in his mouth and biting gently. Arthur nearly jackknives on the bed.

“You okay?” Merlin worries, peering at Arthur from under his eyelashes.

“Yeah,” Arthur breathes. “Never knew I was sensitive there.” Merlin hums contentedly, satisfied with the response and proceeds to map Arthur’s chest with his lips.

“You know you can skip the foreplay, right?” Arthur points out. Partly because he suddenly feels guilty for talking Merlin into granting his wish (although Merlin seems to enjoy himself), and partly because, if he’s being honest, he’s getting a little impatient. Merlin wasn’t kidding when he said he likes to draw things out. “I gave you my explicit consent to get in my pants.”

“And I told you I like to take my time,” Merlin counters, and Arthur can detect mirth in his voice.

“To drive me crazy, huh?” he accuses with no bite.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Merlin laughs, confirming Arthur’s suspicions. He licks and sucks at Arthur’s hipbone, bruising his skin further, humming under his breath. “You smell like that sandalwood scented soap of yours,” he comments, looking up with his chin propped on Arthur’s lower belly, quirking his brow in question. “Did you take a shower before I got home?”

“Maybe?” Arthur hesitates, then caves when Merlin emphasizes the eyebrow lift. “I was... hoping you’d say yes.” He turns his head to the side in shame, although the action does nothing to hide his burning cheeks.

Merlin lets out a dark chuckle, his breath ghosting hotly over Arthur’s straining cock which twitches in response. Merlin doesn’t do anything for a few moments, and when Arthur peeks at him, curious, he finds him staring at Arthur’s cock. He looks hesitant, but the hungry sparkle in his eyes speaks for itself. Arthur’s pulse quickens when Merlin licks his lips, inches away from Arthur’s weeping length. He’s already leaking, more precome spurting out at witnessing Merlin’s hungry gaze.

Arthur’s desire burns strong even as his apprehension grows. This... is not a part of the deal. It’s not like they had a deal per se, but... it already feels like they are crossing a threshold Arthur didn’t even know was there.

The tension breaks when Merlin speaks next. “You have lube? Condoms?”

Swallowing heavily, Arthur replies, “In the nightstand.” He breathes a little easier the second Merlin’s in no proximity to his cock, rummaging through the contents of the top drawer instead. He stops breathing all together when Merlin returns to his previous spot, between Arthur’s spread legs, holding a half empty bottle of lube and a condom in his hands.

“Can you roll over?” he asks. Arthur happily obliges, grateful he can hide from Merlin at least a little bit. He hears Merlin shuffle behind him and he turns his head to the side so he can watch what’s going on. Just in time to see Merlin pull his briefs down his thighs before he discards them on the floor, his impressive length bobbing between his legs, the head dark red and glistening.

“Fuck,” he says without meaning to and burrows his face in the pillow. He must be crazy. How did he ever think he could take something like that?

“Arthur?” Merlin calls gently. “You okay? Something wrong?”

“N-no,” he lies, clearing his throat. “No, I’m good.”

At first, he thinks Merlin’s going to pry some more, but to his relief he doesn’t. He straddles one of Arthur’s thighs, nudging his legs apart with one knee.

“Okay?” he checks as his slick fingers dip cautiously between Arthur’s cheeks.

Arthur tells himself to stay relaxed. “Yeah.”

“It’s going to feel different when it’s someone else’s fingers,” Merlin explains patiently. “It might be uncomfortable at some point, especially since it’s your first time.” The last part comes out much hoarser. “But I promise I’ll make it good for you.”

It’s that promise, that blatant eagerness to make sure Arthur enjoys himself that has him sinking into the mattress, his muscles unclenching. “Can’t wait,” he mumbles dazedly and finds he means it.

Merlin runs one finger over his tight entrance in small circles. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He keeps circling Arthur’s hole for a little while and then finally, _finally,_ presses inside.

Arthur knows this part, he’s gone further himself, but Merlin was right - having someone else do this _is_ different. Having _Merlin_ do this is almost unbelievable. He lets Merlin work his magic on him, lets him wrap himself over Arthur’s back like a warm blanket and whisper praise and sweet, silly nothings into his ear while he works a second finger inside.

“You can pick up the pace, Merlin,” Arthur prompts after some time. “I... um, got up to three myself.”

He hears Merlin take a sharp breath in. Merlin obliges, sliding a third finger beside the first two, slowly, tenderly. He twists and crooks them, getting deeper than Arthur ever has.

“Oh, God, fuck!” Arthur screams into the pillow when Merlin brushes what is most definitely his prostate.

“Good?” Merlin asks unnecessarily, his delight evident. As though he’s the one having his prostate massaged. Before Arthur can reply, Merlin finds that sweet spot again, rubbing at it insistently.

“Ahh.” Arthur lets out a litany of embarrassing noises which, incredulously, only seem to spur Merlin on, and he zeroes on Arthur’s prostate with deadly precision. He adds a fourth finger when he’s sure that Arthur is nice and loose. Arthur pushes back on his fingers even as he starts to feel the burn for the first time.

“Okay?” God, Merlin sounds just as wrecked as Arthur feels.

“Y-yeah. Just... new.” Understatement of the century.

Merlin works him open for a couple more minutes. After that, he’s pulling his fingers out, leaving Arthur with aching emptiness. Arthur hears him tear the condom packet open, hears him slide the condom on and slick himself up with more lube.

He inches his legs further apart.

Merlin groans at the display. “Ready?” he asks.

“Uh-huh.”

He slides his cock between Arthur’s pert cheeks, rubbing the head over his hole to get him used to the new sensation. Arthur holds his breath as Merlin presses against his opening.

And nothing happens.

Arthur feels his body lock up, all of his muscles clenching at once. _This is not supposed to happen._

“Arthur?” Merlin says close to his ear, pressing his lips to Arthur’s nape.

“Sorry,” Arthur replies, ashamed and upset with himself.

“Arthur.”

“Sorry,” he hiccups. “I... I’m a little tense. Need a sec.” He exhales shakily. “Just give me a sec.”

Merlin sighs, withdrawing both his lips and his cock. “This is not gonna work, Arthur.”

“No!” Arthur yells in panic, bracing himself up on his forearms. “It will work! I promise! I just need a sec, is all.”

“Arthur, calm down,” Merlin comforts, carding a hand through his hair reassuringly. “I meant it won’t work in this position, so could you please turn over?”

“Oh.” Arthur immediately relaxes. “Yeah, sure.” He turns over onto his back, taking in Merlin’s disheveled appearance - his dark eyes, his hair a disarray, lips red from being bitten on. He looks... bloody beautiful.

He lets his legs fall open, expecting Merlin to slot in between them to continue where they left off. Instead, Merlin lays down on his belly, face coming dangerously close to Arthur’s groin.

“What are you doing?” Arthur questions even as he already anticipates the answer.

“Distracting you,” Merlin says simply and with that he swallows Arthur down in one go.

“Hoooly... fuck!” Arthur screams, hands automatically coming down to tangle in Merlin’s hair, making it even more messy. “God, Merlin, your mouth. Fuck.”

Merlin hums around his cock, the vibration traveling up Arthur’s spine, giving him full-body quakes. Arthur’s had his fair share of blowjobs, but nothing compares to the way Merlin sucks him like he’s starving for it, like bringing Arthur pleasure with his mouth is his life-purpose.

All too soon, the heat of Merlin’s mouth is gone. He regards Arthur with a look that has Arthur wanting to hide, and give himself over to Merlin completely at the same time.

“Ready to try again?” Merlin asks raspily.

Arthur nods. “Yeah.” And he starts to turn over again. Merlin stops him with a hand on his chest.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Like this.”

“Oh,” Arthur peeps. “Okay.”

“Put your legs around my waist,” Merlin instructs as he crawls in between Arthur’s legs, hands either side of his torso.

Hesitant, Arthur bends his knees and lifts his legs in the air, hooking them reluctantly over Merlin’s sharp hipbones. “Yeah, just like that,” Merlin praises and bends down to kiss his forehead. “You’re doing amazing.” It’s stupid, but Arthur feels his heart flutter at the praise.

Merlin squeezes more lube on his fingers, rubbing some over Arthur’s already wet entrance and spreading the rest over his own cock.

“Relax for me, Arthur,” he says gently, lowering himself down until their chests are almost flush. He keeps himself propped up on one forearm and uses his free hand to hold his cock steady as he nudges between Arthur’s cheeks again. He holds Arthur’s gaze as he presses froward. Arthur is sure that it won’t go any better than the last attempt, but all those thoughts are washed away when the tip breaches him, so sudden and unexpected that he’s left gasping for breath.

“M-Merlin,” he stutters, mouth falling open when he feels Merlin sink in further. He can see all his emotions reflected in Merlin’s eyes. 

“Are you-” Merlin starts, tiny droplets of sweat sliding down his face.

“D-don’t, don’t stop now,” Arthur begs. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Fuck,” Merlin utters and it looks like he’s doing everything in his power not to just slam in at once. It feels like an eternity before he’s fully inside, hips flush with Arthur’s bum.

“O-oh,” Arthur hiccups, marveling at the impossible stretch.

Merlin presses himself firmly against Arthur, claiming his parted lips in a messy, uncoordinated kiss.

“Arthur,” he says like a prayer, rocking his hips in short, slow thrusts. “Arthur.”

“Merlin,” Arthur returns, his arms coming up to wrap around Merlin’s shoulders, keeping him in place and barely allowing him any movement. Merlin maintains the pace, keeping his movements slow and steady and deep, looking down at Arthur like he’s seeing him for the first time.

“T-tell me,” he says.

Arthur blinks at him, too focused on the way Merlin’s moving inside him. “Huh?”

Merlin draws back and snaps his hips forward, sudden and forceful, making Arthur scream loudly when the motion send his cock straight into Arthur’s prostate. “Tell me you want it.”

“Shit,” Arthur all but sobs, tightening his legs around Merlin.

“Tell me,” Merlin demands, changing the rhythm, making his thrust longer and harder.

“I want it,” Arthur humors him. “Want you.”

“Again.” Merlin punctuates the request with a particularly hard thrust that has Arthur see stars.

“Want you to fuck me,” Arthur babbles, uncaring what he sounds like. He’s sure that at this point he would say yes to murder. “Want it so much. God, Merlin, it’s so good. You feel so good, shit.” He’s not even exaggerating.

Merlin groans loudly and rewards him with a series of well-measured thrusts. “More.”

“Love having you inside me.” The words pour out of Arthur’s mouth without effort. “Love how you fill me up.”

“Ugh, Arthur,” Merlin howls, pressing their mouths together with a bruising force, fucking Arthur so deep he swears he can feel it in his throat.

“God, yeah, right there,” Arthur exclaims. “Fuck me. Just keep fucking me. Please, please.”

“Fuck. Fuck, Arthur.” He mouths at Arthur’s jaw. “I want... fuck, I want...”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna come inside you.”

To his bewilderment, Arthur feels his gut clench with want. “Yeah,” he nods vehemently. “Fuck. Do it. Just do it. Fill me up.” It’s silly, he knows it is. Merlin’s wearing a condom and none of this blabbering makes sense. And it doesn’t matter because this, right here, with Merlin, is so much better, so much more than he would have dared hope.

“Ar-Arthur,” Merlin says in a broken voice, sneaking his hand between their bodies to stroke Arthur’s cock in sync with his thrust. Arthur keens and it’s not even half a minute later that he’s screaming Merlin’s name, spilling over his hand and his own stomach while Merlin carries on pistoning inside him until he, too, shudders and stills, repeating Arthur’s name. Arthur feels him swell inside him. and if he could he would probably get hard again.

They remain unmoving, catching their breath. Arthur takes the opportunity to run his fingers through Merlin’s damp hair, massaging his scalp, while Merlin peppers wet kisses across his shoulder and chest.

“Are you okay?” he checks with Arthur, blinking up at him dazedly.

“Uh-huh,” Arthur hums and promptly panics. What should he do now? He got what he wanted, didn’t he?

Didn’t he?

“Um, thanks,” he says lamely. “That was... good.”

Merlin stiffens in his position, the light in his eyes dimming. “Good,” he repeats, unsure. “You’re welcome, I guess?”

Arthur winces when Merlin slips out and watches him take the condom off, tie it and throw it in the bedside bin with an impressive aim.

“I... should probably go to my room,” Merlin concludes, but it sounds like a question. He’s already lifting himself up when Arthur’s brain decides to switch on.

“Or you could stay?”

Merlin hesitates, studying Arthur’s face. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“We just had sex, Merlin. It can’t get any more awkward,” he says with confidence he doesn’t feel.

“Alright,” Merlin relents eventually, lying down on the bed alongside Arthur. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Arthur suppresses the urge to kiss Merlin senseless. “I’m great. It was... great.”

Merlin lights up like a Christmas tree. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He finally seems to relax and Arthur follows suit. They still need to take a shower and eat dinner. And sort out this mess Arthur got them into.

There will be time for that later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pizza time! ^^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter compared to the first one, but I felt like making this one fluffy before I dive into another shameless smut :D 
> 
> I changed the chapter count. Will either write a long one next, or two shorter ones (in which case, it will be 4 chapters). But who knows, maybe I'll get carried away again and this ends up being a freaking 50k novel lol
> 
> Either way, enjoy! <3
> 
> Unebeta'd

Turns out Arthur was wrong; things _could_ get more awkward. And they did. Naturally. Starting with Merlin being a bloody mother-hen in the worst possible way.

“Sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Aren’t you... sore?”

“Jesus, Merlin, you can’t just ask me that!”

“It’s a valid question. I have some stuff that could help with-”

“Okay, that’s it.”

“Where are you going?”

“To take a shower.”

Arthur takes his sweet time pulling himself together while he lets hot water wash away the lingering smell of sex and sweat. He scrubs himself down furiously when the sole thought of what he and Merlin did sends a tendril of heat down his spine and settles low in his abdomen.

Of course he wouldn’t tell Merlin that but he’s plenty sore. To his dismay, he finds it doesn’t bother him. Like, at all. And maybe... just maybe, it’s the opposite.

It must have a logical explanation. Maybe it’s just a sense of accomplishment he’s feeling. That makes sense, right? He tried something new, something he’d been curious about. Something new, with a man. Something new with _Merlin._

Oh, God. He had sex with Merlin!

He presses his forehead to the wet, cold tiles with a groan. What a mess. And it’s all his fault. Merlin was right. They were making a mistake.

So why doesn’t it feel like one?

“Arthur?” Arthur jolts at the sound of his name and shuts the water off.

“Y-yeah?”

“I don’t feel like cooking tonight. Thought we could order pizza instead?”

“Sure,” Arthur croaks.

“Meat lovers?”

Arthur smiles despite the situation. What is he doing? Why is he freaking out so much? This is Merlin. Sure, the sex made it awkward. The fact that they are not only best friends but roommates on top of that does nothing to ease his inner turmoil.

 _But this is Merlin_. Merlin, who knows Arthur’s favorite pizza, and how he takes his coffee. Who doesn’t mind Arthur singing loudly and very off key while he does chores. Who went out at 2 am just to get Arthur some Oreos and a bag of salt and vinegar crisps when he got high on a weekday. Who pretended to be Arthur’s boyfriend for a couple of weeks when that crazy chick - Wendy, Vicky, Vivian? - stalked Arthur for the better part of the last year of Uni after he’d made out with her at one of Cenred’s parties.

He shakes his head fondly at the last memory. The fake boyfriend thing worked so much better than he he’d expected. For some reason, no one actually questioned the truthfulness of their relationship. Sure, they received a couple incredulous looks and more than a few congratulations: _I’m so happy for you guys! When did this happen? Did Merlin ask you out? You look so good together!_

To say their friends were more than a little dumbstruck when Merlin and Arthur came clean about the whole charade would be an understatement. Arthur took it as a compliment back then; they must have been really convincing.

“Arthur?”

Oh. Right. The pizza.

“I’m actually not that hungry.” His stomach is still churning nervously. “Wanna share one?”

“Sure,” Merlin replies. “Any requests?”

“Up to you.”

“Haw-”

“No pineapple on my pizza, you bloody heathen!” Arthur steps out of the shower stall, grabbing his towel and patting himself dry. He hears Merlin huff at the other side of the door.

“Typical. You know, Arthur, you need to live a little.”

Arthur is tempted to remind Merlin of what they did just an hour ago. That was pretty wild, wasn’t it? Maybe Merlin needs a refresher.

_Where the hell did that come from?!_

“If you want the fucking pineapple you put in on your half. But I swear, if I find any on my half I’ll-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Merlin dismisses and Arthur can almost see what he must look like right now, shaking his head at Arthur’s antics, smiling that secret, lopsided smile of his while his eyes sparkle with mirth and-

He shakes himself back to reality. “Ask for extra olives on my half.”

Merlin makes a gagging sound, totally unnecessary and over-exaggerated, but Arthur knows he’ll humor him anyway. He always does. Even though he bitches at Arthur about his life choices later.

Arthur needs to calm down. It’s just Merlin. His Merlin. It will be fine. _They_ will be fine.

He wraps the towel around his waist and exits the bathroom, making a beeline for his room when he registers a choking sound behind him. He turns around, finding Merlin with his phone pressed to his ear, mouth hanging open as he stares at Arthur.

“What?” he asks, then blushes when he realizes he’s parading himself in front of Merlin almost naked. It’s hardly the first time Merlin’s seen him like this. Hell, he’s seen Merlin in just a towel countless times. And they just had sex!

This is silly. Why should he act like a blushing virgin now, after what they did? Hell, Merlin had Arthur’s cock in his mouth. And Arthur had Merlin’s cock in his ass, for crying out loud!

Merlin gapes like a fish, trying to form words and failing. A distorted voice comes from the phone Merlin’s clutching onto like his life depends on it.

“Yes! Hey!” he replies in high-pitch, nearly dropping the phone, and turns his back to Arthur, posture rigid. “Merlin here. Could we get a pepperoni pizza with extra pineapple on one half and olives on the other?... No. Pineapple... Yes. Yes, I’m sure!... No. I definitely want pineapple.” Merlin grows more irritated by the second, the tone of his voice so blatantly annoyed and boyish as he pouts.

Arthur nearly drops his towel, he’s shaking so hard, trying to hold in the laughter. He mostly fails, judging by the not-at-all threatening smoulder Merlin graces him with, glaring daggers. Arthur secures the towel with an extra knot and holds his hands in the air in mock surrender, turning around and chuckling to himself all the way to his room. He vaguely hears Merlin grumble something under his breath (it sounds a lot like _royal prat_ ) and it only makes him giggle more.

Once in the room, he closes the door to have some privacy. _Now you’re being modest, huh? You begged for Merlin’s cock just an hour ago!_

“Shut up, for fuck’s sake!” he curses at himself, huffing indignantly as he drops the towel and walks over to the dresser to pick a fresh T-shirt (his previous one got more than a little sweaty in a surprisingly short amount of time). He goes with the grey sweats he was wearing before. He’s going to go to bed in a few hours anyway.

It’s a testament to how out of his rocker he is that he only then notices the bed has been stripped of the sheets. Merlin must have done that while Arthur was in the bathroom. That ridiculous, considerate oaf.

When he comes back to the living room, Merlin is sitting on the couch, playing with the remote, a far away look in his eyes even as he stares at the TV screen. He only notices Arthur when he’s dropping on the couch next to Merlin, startling him a bit.

“The Bake off will be starting in a few,” he says, placing the remote between them, as though he’s trying to create a barrier. “Pizza will be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Are you watching with me?” Arthur wonders. He’s usually the one watching the telly while Merlin gets lost in a book. If Arthur remembers correctly, right now Merlin’s reading _Me before you_. Arthur doesn’t get it. They watched the movie together (Arthur _did not_ cry, thank you very much), they both know how it ends. Why would Merlin do this to himself?

“I’m a bit tired. Don’t think I could concentrate properly without having to reread one page three times.”

Merlin’s never that tired that he would go to bed without having read at least one chapter. It’s a ritual of his, sort of. Then again, he’s never plowed Arthur into the mattress before.

Arthur slaps himself internally as his mind takes him back to that particular moment. To his horror, the burning cheeks are hardly the only reaction his body produces in response to that specific thought. He fidgets on the couch, wincing a little as the soreness in his backside grows, and bends his right knee that is closer to Merlin and brings it to his chest.

Unsurprisingly, Merlin notices his uneasiness, shooting him a questioning look.

“Just getting comfortable,” Arthur tries to explain and promptly regrets it. Of course Merlin knows what’s going on (at least partly).

“I can still get you the-”

“I’m fine!” Arthur exclaims way too desperately, pointedly looking anywhere but Merlin. Merlin stays quiet for a while, studying Arthur with intensity that’s inherent to him, and Arthur squirms in response. He can see Merlin out of the corner of his eye, can see him open his pink, beautiful, infuriating mouth. Before Merlin can say anything, the opening theme for the Bake-off starts playing, and Arthur’s never loved the show more.

“There we go!” he announces excitedly. Merlin frowns. He must sense Arthur’s discomfort because instead of prodding, he exhales heavily, like Arthur’s disappointed him somehow, and remains silent.

Arthur is both grateful and disappointed himself.

They’ve watched 10 minutes of the show when the intercom rings. Merlin shoots up from the couch and runs to the door. He buzzes the person in, assuming it’s the delivery guy. He disappears in his room for a minute and comes out with his wallet.

“Wait,” Arthur stands up, holding up a hand. “My turn.”

Merlin shakes his head. “It’s fine, I-”

“You always cook. And you know I can’t be trusted in the kitchen so at least leave the takeaways to me.”

Merlin bites his lip, hesitant. Even after all these years, Merlin struggles with accepting... anything, really. It annoys Arthur to no end. Unfortunately, it’s also one of countless things he adores about Merlin. Merlin is a giver, always has been. Even when he doesn’t have anything to give, he still tries. And he never asks for anything.

At first, Arthur really struggled to grasp the fact. There are not many things he can offer to people to show he cares. Barely anything besides money or design ideas. The first is the main reason why most people stick around.

But not Merlin. Never Merlin. Who crashed into Arthur’s life like a wrecking ball and made him question all his beliefs and opinions. Both about the world, and himself.

It’s been years and Arthur still can’t wrap his head around it. Or around Merlin. The man is an enigma. A part of Arthur wants to unravel all his secrets. Another one loves the mystery.

The biggest mystery is why Merlin sticks around. Arthur is annoying on his good days, and an outright menace on his worst days. Why Merlin tolerates him, shares home with him, is beyond Arthur. But he’s not about to look gift horse in the mouth.

Before Merlin can come up with a reasonable objection, there’s a knock on the door and Arthur takes advantage of Merlin’s distracted state and all but runs to the kitchen where he always leaves his wallet and keys. He pulls out a twenty pound note and makes a beeline to the door before Merlin can gather his bearings. He pays for the pizza, shoving the bill in the kid’s hand and telling him to keep the change (six pounds can hardly be considered change but Arthur’s always been a rather generous tipper). He turns around to smile at Merlin brightly, holding the pizza box in front of himself like a prize.

“Dinner time, baby!” On second thought, he could’ve gone with something less silly, but the way Merlin blinks at him owlishly before he bursts into giggles is worth it.

“You’re ridiculous.” Merlin shakes his head, equally fond and incredulous. He jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen, signaling for Arthur to follow. Arthur trails behind him, placing the pizza box on the counter while Merlin pulls two big plates out of the cupboard. Arthur flips the lid open, salivating the second the smell hits his nose. He wipes at his chin, just in case he’s drooling.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Merlin scowls next to him, most unimpressed as he squints at the pizza. Arthur skims his gaze over the pizza to determine the problem. It takes him less than five seconds and when the realization hits, he has to hold onto the counter to prevent himself from crumbling to the floor in a fit of body-quaking laughter.

“This is not funny!” Merlin argues, and the childish sulkiness just sends Arthur into another fit. “You’re a dick.”

Arthur takes a long while to calm down, losing his composure every time he spares Merlin a glance, finding him pouting, leaning against the counter with arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the poor pizza like it gravely offended him.

“This is so good,” Arthur gasps for breath, choking a little on his saliva when it goes down the wrong pipe.

“I told them like a million times! They asked me like a million times!”

“Maybe they were just trying to get you to rethink your life choices, to make you see reason.”

“I don’t want to see reason! I want fucking pineapple on my fucking pizza!” The olives scattered all over the top stare back mockingly.

As much as Arthur is enjoying himself, he can tell Merlin is genuinely upset about the bloody pineapple. It’s as endearing as it’s ridiculous.

“I can run to Tesco to pick up some for you,” he offers, trying for serious but unable to keep the stupid grin from his face. Merlin doesn’t appreciate it.

“Don’t be stupid,” Merlin breathes in surrender, unfolding his arms and slumping tiredly against the counter.

“No, really,” Arthur insists, more serious. “I don’t mind. It’s just down the road.”

Merlin shakes his head, and if Arthur is not mistaken, he’s smiling a little, too.

“It’s fine. Maybe it’s not meant to be.” Arthur bites his lip to make sure he doesn’t make a stupid comment and aggravate Merlin further. “Just take your bloody olives off my half.”

Arthur barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, but does as Merlin asks, happily moving all the olives to his half, licking his lips. Merlin gradually calms down, more resigned than anything else. They settle back down on the couch, each with his own plate, and watch the rest of the show, uncaring they missed a significant part of the whole thing.

“We can get hawaiian next time we order pizza,” Arthur suggests through a mouthful. “You can have the pineapple from my half.”

Merlin’s cheeks are bulging out as he chews on a big chunk, but given how his eyes soften ever so slightly, Arthur can tell he appreciates the offer. He smiles at Arthur toothily when he can, making Arthur’s heart swell until it feels too big for his chest.

“Thank you. That’s very sweet.” Arthur busies himself with another slice, hiding the burn on his cheeks. “But next time we have pizza, I’m making it from scratch.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

Merlin keeps smiling at him, like Arthur just made his day. Arthur can’t help but return it. They smile at each other for a long while, until the sound from the telly fades into a distorted, background noise. Merlin’s eyes bore into his, so reminiscent of the time Merlin had Arthur on his back, holding his gaze as he steadily sunk himself into the welcoming heat of Arthur’s body.

Arthur’s gaze falls to Merlin’s lips and for that one, fleeting moment, he feels nothing more than an overwhelming urge to lean forward and kiss that beautiful smile away.

The moment passes and Arthur jerks out of his stupor almost violently.

“You okay?” Merlin asks, his smile nowhere to be seen, replaced with worry and confusion. Arthur immediately misses it.

“Y-yeah. Just a cramp,” he lies, adjusting his posture so he’s staring ahead at the telly. Merlin doesn’t say anything but doesn’t look convinced.

Arthur curls in on himself, clutching at his plate like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. He ignores the aching throbbing in his groin, the foreign, uncomfortable emptiness in other places. He turns his gaze to the ceiling, praying for advice.

He’s in so much trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for taking so long to write another chapter (and guess what, there's gonna be another one lol) but I needed to get into the right headspace. 
> 
> This chapter turned out differently than I aimed for but well... I like to let my boys set up the course :D
> 
> Seriously, the next chapter will wrap the story up. For now, enjoy some more (fluffy) smut! <3

Over the course of the next few days things get progressively better. They also get gradually worse. While Arthur’s relationship with Merlin seems to slowly return to how it was before, Arthur’s _feelings_ are a whole different story. Who would have thought those two things are not strictly interwoven.

Merlin doesn’t mention their little experimentation at any point, and Arthur’s not sure if he should be grateful or worried. Sure, it spares him the embarrassment. And frankly, there’s a whole lot he should be embarrassed about. God, the things he said. The things he _did_. Yeah, he definitely should be over the moon that Merlin decided to put the whole escapade behind them. There’s just one problem.

Arthur kind of wants to do it again. No, scratch that - he’s dying to do it again.

He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Merlin since. Sharing a flat with the guy is not helpful at all. It’s not like Merlin is being purposefully distracting. But yeah, that’s exactly what he is. A bloody distraction.

How did Arthur never notice how fit Merlin actually is? He’s seen him walking out of the shower or his room half-naked in the morning countless times. How did he never register the impressive width of his shoulders? The subtle but definitely there outline of his abs? And the scattering of black hair, running all the way down from his chest until it blends into the happy trail and disappears under... under.

Shit, Arthur doesn’t even need to imagine what Merlin looks like naked. He already _knows!_ He may not have paid proper attention the first time around, too wound up with what they were about to do, too desperate to get Merlin inside him. But he still remembers.

He knows Merlin’s arms are surprisingly strong and longer than they look. He knows his hands are warmer than he’d expect from someone who starts shivering the minute the temperature drops below 22°C. He knows his hair is just as soft as it looks. His mouth _softer than it looks_.

He knows his voice deepens impossibly when he’s aroused, the blue of his irises overtaken by black. That he nearly sobs, sounding almost pained, when he’s about to come.

He knows Merlin can make him feel like the most precious, beautiful thing in the world while he fucks him like the shameless whore Arthur is.

“Turkish stew or carbonara?”

There are other things, too. Other things he never... well, that’s not true. He _did_ notice them. But they are such an integral part of Merlin that Arthur never stopped to think about them. Now all he can do is think about them.

Like the fact that Merlin goes through the trouble of buying two different brands of milk for their coffee and tea because Arthur is annoyingly particular about that stuff. He always insists there’s no real difference between them, but he humors Arthur anyway.

Or that he wakes up 15 minutes earlier than he needs to because they both start work at 8 o’clock, and they used to fight about who would take a shower first. Then Merlin came up with this solution, selflessly sacrificing the extra 15 minutes of sleep since Arthur would never sign up for that. If anything, he tends to snooze his alarm at least twice.

Or that he’s always the one to cook because Arthur can’t be trusted to boil water.

Arthur looks at him then. Really looks at him. Merlin’s standing in front of the open fridge, scanning its contents, a cute crease of concentration between his brows as he considers their options. Arthur’s seen him like that a million times. And yet, it feels like he’s seeing him for the first time.

“I’d like to have sex with you again,” Arthur blurts out, the impulse to be close to Merlin too strong to resist. Merlin outright squeaks in response.

“What?!” He whips his head around so fast a loud crack echoes in the kitchen. Arthur winces in sympathy.

“Um...” He drums his fingers against the table nervously. He should’ve thought this through. “I mean, after last time,” he dares a peek at Merlin, watching as his whole body locks up at the mention of _that thing they don’t talk about._ “After we... since we...” _Just spit it out!_ “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” _About you._ “About you,” he says out loud. He swears he just heard Merlin inhale sharply. “It had never felt like that. With anyone. So.” He clears his throat. “I’d like to do it again. With you.”

He avoids looking directly at Merlin, but when a long moment passes, and then another, and another, and Merlin hasn’t uttered a word in response, he does look. His stomach twists into knots as he takes in Merlin’s cold expression, eyes hard and mouth set into a thin line. One of his hands is gripping the fridge door, the other is curled into a fist by his side. He looks the furthest thing from pleased, let alone agreeable.

“No.” The single word cuts through Arthur like a sword.

“Why?” God, he just hopes it doesn’t sound as desperate as he feels.

“What do you mean _why_?” Merlin hisses. “We’re best friends, that’s why.”

“That didn’t stop us before,” he counters.

Merlin closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. He looks like he’s being led to his own execution. “Last time was a mistake. We should’ve never done that in the first place.”

Arthur’s heart sinks at the admission. Does Merlin really think that? Has he felt like this the whole time, while Arthur could think about nothing but how _not wrong_ it felt being with Merlin that way? How it felt like they were always meant to do that?

“You don’t mean that.”

Merlin lets out a long-suffering sigh, shutting the fridge and leaning against it instead. He rubs at his eyes tiredly. “Arthur,” he says pleadingly. “Can’t we just... forget it ever happened?”

“Is that what you want?” Arthur demands. “Was it that bad?” It hurts to think that Merlin might feel completely different about having had sex with Arthur. But it makes sense, doesn’t it? It was Arthur’s first time with a guy, he had no idea what he was doing. For all he knows, it was probably the worst sex Merlin’s ever had.

“What?” Merlin asks incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“Well, you said-”

“I did not say _that_!” He sounds positively appalled, as though the sole thought is insulting. “Jesus, Arthur, it was... You were...” He cuts himself off, takes a few deep breaths. “It wasn’t bad. Okay?” Arthur’s not buying it. “It was... good,” he says with a grimace.

Arthur scoffs. “Yeah, sure.”

“It was!” Merlin insists. “Really good. Incredibly good.” He blushes then and that silly little thing is what makes Arthur believe him.

“So what’s the problem?” A realization hits him like a ton of bricks. “Oh, shit. Are you... seeing someone?” The possibility shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

“What? No! Arthur, don’t you think you’d be the first to know if I was?”

To tell the truth, Arthur’s not sure. It’s not like Merlin to keep things from him, but he also tends to be secretive about his love life. Or sex life. Both, actually.

“So why-”

“The problem is I’m your best friend!” Merlin screams with flailing arms. “And I’d like to continue being one, but that’s not gonna happen if we keep messing around!”

Arthur wants to contradict him. To tell him that if they really are such good friends, something like sex would have no impact on their friendship. They’ve already done it once and nothing has changed. Sure, it was a bit awkward at first, but that was to be expected. They could pull this off. They could be like... best friends with occasional benefits. It wouldn’t be too difficult. There is just one problem.

Arthur isn’t sure that benefits is what he wants.

But he can’t tell Merlin that. So he’s willing to settle for the next best thing. Now, if he just could make Merlin change his mind.

“But-”

“It’s not happening,” Merlin says resolutely and turns his back to him.

“Merlin-”

“Drop it, Arthur.” It’s the resignation in his voice that has Arthur do just that. Merlin’s made up his mind. For now, anyway. But Arthur’s nothing if not resourceful.

“Carbonara.”

“What?”

“I’d like carbonara for dinner.”

Merlin exhales in relief, his posture relaxing. “Yes, your Highness.”

**

If someone told Arthur he’d do what he’s about to do, he would laugh into their face. Possibly punch them, even. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Oi, princess. What brings you to my humble lair?”

Arthur shoulders his way past Gwaine into his flat and promptly scrunches his nose at the mess. He refrains from making a comment. He’s got more important things at hand.

He opens with, “Just so you know, this is all your fault.”

Instead of confusion, a pleased grin settles on Gwaine’s face, infuriating Arthur to no end. “Oh. Whatever it is, I’m sure you’re right. Sounds like me.”

Swallowing down a string of profanities, Arthur continues. “I’m going to give you a rundown on my situation. And,” he holds up a finger, “you won’t say anything until I’m done talking.”

Gwaine spreads his arms, the grin still in place. “I’m all ears.”

It does nothing to ease Arthur’s mind. But beggars can’t be choosers.

“Okay. I can’t believe I’m doing this but here we go.” He inhales for preparation. “So, you remember how you suggested that I buy some toys? Wait, don’t answer. Of course you remember. It was just rhetorical. Anyway, I thought about it. Almost ended up buying some. But I chickened out in the end.”

Gwaine sniffles at that and Arthur realizes he’s just suppressing a laugh. He pointedly ignores it.

“It just felt weird. I wouldn’t even know what to do with it. But... I ended up hooking up with someone.” He checks on Gwaine, finding him listening intently, so he clarifies. “A man.” Gwaine’s eyes budge out comically. “And I... he... um... I was, what do you call it... the catcher?” Gwaine nearly chokes on air and Arthur holds up a hand when he correctly assumes he’s about to say something. “Just let me finish!” he grumbles, and Gwaine does a gesture like he’s zipping his mouth shut. “So, we hooked up. And it was... good. Really good.” He ignores the heat crawling up his neck, setting his face on fire. “And I’d kinda like to do it again?”

He stops there, doesn’t say anything for a full minute, and it’s long enough for Gwaine to dare open his mouth.

“Holy shit, princess, only you. Only you could panic at the thought of buying, God forbid using sex toys, but have no problem skipping several levels.” He seems like he’s about to laugh his ass off, but the death glare Arthur sends his way must work wonders, and instead he asks, “But?”

“But he doesn’t want to.” He rushes to add, “He said he liked it. So it’s not like he didn’t enjoy himself. But he doesn’t want to blur the lines any more than they already have.”

Gwaine’s gaze is calculating, something Arthur never associated with his friend. It makes him feel strangely exposed, as though he’s seeing whatever Arthur’s not saying.

“Blurred lines, huh.” He smirks. “Is he a friend?”

“Um... yeah?” _Smooth, Arthur._ “A co-worker, actually,” he lies.

Gwaine’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “A co-worker, I see. What’s his name?”

Why the hell does he want to know his name?!

“O-Owain.”

“Hmm.” Gwaine taps his finger against his chin, pretending to think. “And this _Owain._ ” Arthur can practically hear the air quotes. “Is he gay? Bi? Pan? Straight?”

“Gay.”

“Uh-huh. So, what can I help you with?”

He can’t believe he’s asking this, but... “How do I get him to change his mind?”

Gwaine regards him for a moment before he bursts out laughing.

“Are you seriously asking me how to seduce a guy?”

“I’m not trying to seduce him!” _Shit. I’m so trying to seduce Merlin._

“Are you sure? It sounds exactly like that to me. And anyway, you’re a guy. You know what works best.”

“With girls! I know what works for me with girls! I have no idea what works when it’s another guy! I can hardly seduce him by wearing a lacy thong or a top that accentuates my cleavage!”

Gwaine gives him an appraising once over. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no if you-”

“Gwaine!”

“Alright, alright. In all seriousness, I believe you’re overthinking this. You just need to be bold and direct. Men are idiots, they don’t get subtle. Just go to town. Pretend to drop something, then bend down to pick it up. Think Legally blonde.” _Oh, sweet Jesus._ “Just don’t break anyone’s nose.” Arthur can only scowl. “Touch him when you pass by him. His shoulder, back.” He winks at Arthur. “Or lower.”

“Gwaine!”

“You asked! Just put yourself out there. Literally! And if that doesn’t work, there’s nothing like good, old blowjob to make your point.”

Arthur’s never wished more for the ground to open up and swallow him. No pun intended.

“You’re _no_ help,” he complains as stomps to the door. It’s time to make his leave and forget this ever happened.

“Out of curiosity,” Gwaine calls cheerfully. “Does Merlin know about this?”

“What?” Arthur croaks.

“Does he know you got your straight, virgin ass plowed?”

He turns around to glare at Gwaine. “Why should he?”

“Oh, no reason. Just wondering.” Yeah, Arthur can tell that’s a lie. He turns to leave again. “By the way, Arthur,” he says with glee. “If your little seduction plan doesn’t work out, I’m happy to be of assistance.”

“Gwaine!”

**

As ridiculous as Gwaine’s advice was, in his desperation Arthur ended up doing just as he suggested. To say the whole plan was a bust would be a very nice way to put it.

It didn’t matter how much Arthur _put himself out there -_ he put almost all of himself out there! - Merlin wouldn’t budge. Bending down in front of him only managed to get Merlin flustered and angry, huffing in frustration and locking himself in his room. 

Touching him “accidentally” only succeeded in driving him away. Merlin started sitting further away from Arthur on the couch. Avoided brushing their shoulders together while he cooked and Arthur plated up.

Their conversations were strained at best and non-existent at worst. Arthur’s been doing all of this to get closer to Merlin. Instead he ended up pushing his friend away. He was losing Merlin, he could tell.

And it was all Gwaine’s fault.

**

“What time will you get back?” Arthur asks as Merlin’s slipping his shoes on.

“Depends on how much nonsense Gwaine’s about to unleash on me.” Normally, Arthur would be offended that he wasn’t invited for a pint, but in this case he’s just grateful he doesn’t have to spend the night listening to Gwaine’s mindless chatter.

“In that case I’d better not wait up, huh?”

Merlin answers with a groan. “Why did I even agree to this in the first place?”

“Because you’re too nice and Gwaine doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“You’re right. I need to learn how to be a jerk.”

“No,” Arthur disagrees. “Don’t. I like you the way you are.” He doesn’t know what made him say that, but seeing Merlin’s dumbstruck face, cheeks tinted lovely pink, he can’t bring himself to regret it.

“Uh, I’ll... see you in the morning?” Merlin stutters, fiddling with his keys.

“Yeah,” he replies quietly. “If you make it through tonight,” he jokes, hoping to break the tension he’s created. This is the longest they’ve talked to each other the whole week.

Merlin barks out a laugh, opening the door and stepping into the hallway. “Pray for me.”

“Will do,” Arthur nods, and then Merlin’s gone.

**

Arthur usually tries not to eat after 6pm. If he goes to bed with a full stomach, he takes ages to fall asleep, and in the morning he feels like shit. But today is Friday, which means no work tomorrow. Which means he can stay up later than his religious 9pm.

He finds some of the potato mash Merlin made yesterday. He’s already showered and brushed his teeth, but he can brush them again after, there’s no rush. He scoops up half of it and puts it in the microwave to reheat. He knows mash is a side, but Merlin must be using magic in his cooking because Arthur would be content to eat it on it’s own. He sets the timer to two minutes and nearly jumps out of his skin as he hears keys jingle in the door. He whips around just in time to see Merlin open the door and step inside.

“Merlin? What are you doing home so early? It’s only,” he checks the clock, “quarter to nine.”

Merlin doesn’t reply, just kicks his shoes off silently and pockets the keys before taking off his jacket and throwing it on the hanger on the door.

Arthur scans his gaze over him imploringly. There’s a slight flush to his cheeks that might be from the cold, alcohol or exertion (since Merlin prefers to take the stairs instead of the elevator). His hair is wind blown, looking even more like a mess than usual. He’s standing upright, so Arthur can tell he’s not drunk, but he’s definitely had a couple. Which might be why he hasn’t stopped staring at Arthur since the door shut behind him.

Arthur stares back, feeling himself shrink under Merlin’s scrutiny. He’s put on a fresh pair of boxers and a white tee he usually sleeps in, but he might as well be naked. Merlin’s gaze is burning, and while it makes Arthur want to hide, it also stirs a fire inside him. To his mortification, he feels himself grow hard, slowly but surely, and he knows that the worn-out underwear will do nothing to conceal his current predicament.

“Merlin?” he tries again, voice shaky. He grips the edge of the counter behind him, leaning against it when his knees start to buckle. He nearly has a heart attack when the microwave pings as the timer sets on zero.

The sound seems to spur Merlin to action because in the next few seconds he’s squaring his shoulders and walking briskly towards Arthur, a predatory look on his face that has Arthur quivering and his cock leaking at the same time.

“Merlin, what-?” He doesn’t get further than that because Merlin’s kissing him next, hard and possessive, more teeth than lips. He tastes like beer and himself (Arthur will never forget what he tastes like), a heady combination that sends all coherent thought out of the window.

He presses Arthur against the counter firmly, the edge cutting into his lower-back uncomfortably but he could care less. He registers the pain in the back of his mind, but it’s easy to ignore. So, so easy when Merlin slides his fingers through Arthur’s hair, holding him in place as he plunders his mouth with his tongue, biting at his lower lip. He tugs at his hair, exposing his throat. He wastes no time attaching his mouth to the sensitive spot under Arthur’s jaw, sucking at the tender skin until it turns dark red. Arthur’s helpless to do anything but grab Merlin by the back of his neck, keeping him right where he is.

“Fuck, Merlin,” he presses out through gritted teeth, heart hammering against his ribcage so hard it’s almost painful.

Merlin hums in agreement, breath hot and wet as it ghosts over his skin. He removes one hand from Arthur’s hair in order to slide it slowly down his chest, over his stomach, lower, lower, until it settles firmly over his fully hard cock.

“Ohh, fuck,” Arthur grunts, hips thrusting reflexively into Merlin’s hand.

Merlin smiles against his skin. “That what you want?”

Arthur nods his head vigorously, continuing the wanton roll of his hips.

“God, you’re already so hard for me,” Merlin says delightedly, darkly. 

Arthur nods again. “Yeah. Only for you.”

Merlin all but growls, rubbing Arthur through the fabric of his boxers, claiming his lips again in a filthy, open-mouthed kiss.

Arthur lets go of the counter completely, both hands coming to grip Merlin’s arms, to steady himself, to pull Merlin impossibly closer.

“Arthur,” Merlin breathes. “Arthur. Tell me. Tell me what you want.”

 _You. Anything. Everything_. “Anything you want to give me.”

Merlin lets out a whimper, pulling his hand away from Arthur’s crotch and replacing it with his thigh, thrusting his right leg between Arthur’s, allowing him to rub against it.

“Whatever you want, it’s yours,” he confesses, lips pressed right next to Arthur’s ear, as though he’s sharing his deepest secret.

Arthur wasn’t lying. He would take anything at all. But he knows what he wants the most. What he’s been thinking about this whole time. He knows what Merlin is expecting him to ask for.

So it comes as a shock to both when the words out of his mouth are, “I want to put my mouth on you.”

“What?” Merlin yelps, staring at Arthur in disbelief as if that’s the filthiest thing either of them has ever uttered. “You, you mean, like...”

Given the situation, Arthur suspects it’s not wise to laugh. He rolls his eyes fondly and decides to push through. “Your cock, you bumpkin.” He futilely fights the furious blush, but to his delight Merlin doesn’t look much better.

“Why?” he asks, genuinely baffled. Arthur frowns. What kind of question is that? And what is he supposed to say to that?

“You said anything I want,” he points out. “Look, if you don’t want to-”

“No!” Merlin yells. “That’s not- I’m not- Jesus, Arthur, of course I want to,” he admits defeatedly. “I just- I didn’t think you...”

No, of course he didn’t. He has no idea about what’s been going through Arthur’s head in the past couple of weeks. He still thinks Arthur wants him for an occasional fuck. It’s a logical assumption. It’s what Arthur wanted him to believe.

And yet, Merlin’s here, letting Arthur do this, despite all his objections. Arthur doesn’t know what brought on this abrupt change, and he knows, _he knows_ he shouldn’t take Merlin up on the offer until he has all the answers. But who can tell for how long Merlin will be willing to let him have this? How long before he decides he’s been putting up with Arthur’s shit way too long and calls this... this thing they have quits?

 _D_ _esperate times, desperate measures,_ he thinks again as he makes up his mind and braces himself for what he knows he’s about to say. What he’s about to do.

Slowly, steadily, he sinks to his knees until he’s kneeling on the cold, tiled kitchen floor, eyes never leaving Merlin’s as he descends. He’s so nervous he wouldn’t be surprised if his heart jumped out of this chest with the force it’s hammering against his ribcage, but the gobsmacked, panicked way Merlin’s watching his every movement has Arthur feel just a bit braver. He’s not fooling anybody anyway. He’s never done this. Merlin knows he’s never done this. All Arthur can do is make sure Merlin knows how much he wants to do it to him.

“Arthur,” Merlin croaks; a plea, a prayer.

Arthur licks his lips absentmindedly, dropping his gaze to Merlin’s jean-covered groin, swallowing heavily as he takes in the slowly growing bulge.

“I want to blow you,” he says hoarsely, peering back up at Merlin through his fringe. “Wanna know what you taste like.”

Merlin makes an indescribable sound, like a whimper, but lower, darker. Arthur needs to lean forward and press his forehead to Merlin’s hipbone to hide his grin. God, he’s loving this already and they haven’t even done anything yet.

“Arthur...” He cards one hand through Arthur’s hair, soothing and familiar. He braces himself against the counter with his other hand when Arthur’s own hands come up to start undoing Merlin’s belt and the fly of his jeans.

“That’s not all,” Arthur continues huskily. “I’ll suck you until you’re close, so close to coming.” Merlin whimpers again, his hand in Arthur’s hair tightening. Arthur’s eyes flutter shut for a second and he bites his lip. “But I don’t want you to finish like that.” Not this time at least.

“Arthur.” Arthur’s managed to undo and pull his jeans down enough to reveal Merlin straining against his boxers, a small, dark, wet spot left where his cockhead is leaking against the fabric. He feels an answering stir in his own groin.

“I want you to fuck me,” he confesses breathlessly, breathing in Merlin’s intoxicating scent, pressing his nose into the hip crease. “Want to sit you on that bloody couch and ride you until my thighs burn.” Now that’s a fantasy he didn’t know he had. But suddenly, it’s all he can think about.

“Oh, God, yes,” Merlin groans, loud and unchecked and, to Arthur’s shock, he slides his hand down to grab him by the back of his neck to press him firmly against his crotch. Arthur lets out a surprised, choked sound, but his body takes over. On reflex, he opens his mouth and fits it right over Merlin’s still clothed cock, giving it a tentative suck.

“Ohhh, fuck,” Merlin curses, and Arthur answers with a moan. Merlin doesn’t taste unlike Arthur (and shut up, Arthur only knows because he was curious! It’s normal to be curious!), quite bitter and musky, but the fact he’s _Merlin_ changes everything about the experience.

Suddenly eager for more, Arthur hooks his fingers into the waistband of Merlin’s underwear and tugs, pulling it down until his cock springs free, already fully hard and flushed dark red, a few drops of precome dribbling from the tip. It’s a testament to how far gone he is that he doesn’t even think before takes the head in his mouth and laps at the bitter liquid even as the action draws more of it out.

“Fuck. Fuck, Arthur.”

Arthur’s pretty sure he’s not doing anything spectacular. Hell, he’ll be lucky if he passes as average, but Merlin reaction has him gloating all the same.

He hums around his cock, Merlin’s body answering with a shiver and a moan of his own. Feeling bolder, Arthur circles his fingers over the base of Merlin’s cock and slides his mouth lower, aiming to go as far as to touch his lips to his hand but stopping far before that. That’s okay, he can work on that. He’ll eventually figure it out. Will find all the ways to make Merlin lose his mind by simply using his mouth and tongue.

Satisfied with the challenge he set up for himself, he comes back to the present moment, deciding to use his limited knowledge and non-existent skill to turn Merlin into a putty right here and now.

It’s not perfect, but not as difficult as he would have anticipated. He simply pays attention to the little sounds Merlin makes after Arthur’s done something particularly memorable, notices and files away the moments Merlin’s hand on his neck squeezes a little harder, when Merlin rocks his hips ever so slightly into his mouth.

To his bewilderment, it’s not long before Merlin’s body begins twitching in regular intervals, his breathing becoming labored and heavy, the sounds falling out of his lips a combination of praise and Arthur’s name.

“Arthur,” Merlin says warningly and out of breath. It makes Arthur redouble his efforts, push Merlin as close to the edge as he dares without sending him over.

“Arthur. You have to... to...”

He feels Merlin body tensing ever so slightly and rushes to pull away, letting him slip out of his mouth. Merlin utters a displeased, desperate whimper, his hands still on Arthur’s neck; not pulling, just resting.

Arthur grins like a madman, unable to keep his smugness at bay. He wipes the droll of his chin, winces a little as he registers the soreness of his lips, the ache of his jaw. He looks up at Merlin with wide eyes, finding him already looking back down.

“Get up,” he orders and Arthur obeys without question. He’s not even standing upright when Merlin grabs him by the front of his shirt and presses him against the counter again, latching onto Arthur’s mouth like a starving man. He licks at Arthur’s lips, pushes slowly into his mouth and searches out his tongue. He moans a little then, presumably at tasting himself on Arthur, and Arthur is ready to burst without even losing his pants first. Shit. He’s been planning on taking charge. Wanted Merlin to watch him open himself up for him and then ride his cock until they were both spent and sweaty.

There is no way he’s going to last that long. No way is he going to be coordinated enough to act on any of that. Well, they’ll have to save that for next time.

God, he hopes there’s gonna be next time.

“Clothes off,” he demands, tugging furiously at Merlin’s shirt. Merlin all but rips it off of his body, then slides his jeans and underwear all the way down, until he can pull them off completely, taking his socks in the process as well. He does the same to Arthur, discarding his shirt on the floor unceremoniously, then pulling his boxes down to his ankles, then off, until they are both well and properly naked, their chests sliding against each other, slick with sweat.

“Wanna,” Merlin mumbles into the next kiss, “wanna move to the couch?”

“No,” Arthur replies. “No time. Here’s fine.”

Merlin pulls away, frowning.

“But you said-”

“Changed my mind. Next time. Okay?” He kisses him again to get the frown off his face and whispers, “Want you to take me here. Right here.” He’s rewarded with a gasping breath. “Can you get what we need?”

Merlin’s nodding before Arthur’s finished talking, and then he’s off and running to his bedroom, leaving Arthur staring at his retreating form, all milky skin and strong legs, and God, this is going to be over so embarrassingly quickly.

To his relief, Merlin comes running back seconds later, a bottle of lube and a condom in his hands, obviously as desperate as Arthur, and Arthur’s never felt so wanted in his life. It’s dangerously addictive. If he’s ever had any doubt about Merlin’s attraction to him, it’s all gone.

As if to prove this, Merlin stops in his tracks a few feet away from Arthur, raking his . gaze hungrily over every exposed inch of his body. His eyes darken impossibly when they settle on Arthur’s cock, rock hard and leaking, and Arthur nearly has to reach down and fist himself at the base to prevent himself from coming untouched, with Merlin’s predatory gaze as the only stimulus.

He starts panicking as Merlin takes the few remaining steps forward, throws the stuff on the counter and makes to drop to his knees, mouth already parting as he leans forward.

“No!” Arthur yelps, loud enough it startles Merlin out of his daze. “Sorry, I just... You can’t do that.” He shakes his head regretfully.

A betrayed look passes Merlin’s face. “But-”

“No. If you do that, I’ll go off like a rocket.”

Merlin blinks, the realization dawning on him. His mouth is still hanging open, this time with surprise, before it stretches into a self-satisfied smirk. “Is that so?” he taunts, so blatantly pleased with himself. Arthur tries to scowl, but his heart isn’t in it.

Merlin straightens up and takes one final step, until they’re sharing the same breath, and places his large hands on Arthur’s hips, mindful to not come any close to his cock. He leans in for one more kiss, the smirk still in place, and twirls Arthur around, pulling at his hips to make him arch his back and lean forward on his forearms.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Arthur. You don’t even know,” Merlin says darkly, rubbing his thumbs in circles over Arthur’s sides. Arthur shivers against him, both from the words and the touch.

Merlin leans over him, pressing his chest against his back, lips brushing the shell of Arthur’s ear. “Ever been eaten out, Arthur?” he asks and it’s obvious he already knows the answer.

Arthur makes an unidentifiable, embarrassing sound that makes Merlin chuckle. “You haven’t, have you? What a shame.” He sounds like he means it, like the fact is ridiculously outrageous.

Arthur spreads his legs apart, arches his back further in invitation.

“God, the things I want to do to you,” Merlin confesses, still whispering directly to his ear, grazing it with his teeth.

“You can,” Arthur chokes out, nearly sobbing in his desperation. How he hasn’t come yet is beyond him. “Anything you want.”

Merlin makes a pained sound, sinking his teeth in the tendon on Arthur’s nape. “Be careful, Arthur. You don’t know what you’re agreeing to.”

It sounds like a promise and Arthur can’t wait to cash in on it. There will be time for that. Hopefully.

“One day, I’m going to make you come on my tongue. Just on my tongue. For now...” Instead of answering, he reaches for the lube, not wasting time before he squeezes a generous amount on his fingers and brings them between Arthur’s spread cheeks. “I’m happy to let you come on my cock.” He punctuates the statement with pressing two fingers inside at once.

Arthur gasps at the unexpected intrusion, the sudden burn he forgot would inevitably follow, but moans at the feeling anyway. It hasn’t even been two weeks and yet it feels like a lifetime since he had any part of Merlin inside him.

“Fuck,” Merlin grits out, resting his forehead on Arthur’s upper back. “So fucking tight. How can you be so tight?”

Arthur hides his blushing face in the cradle of his arms, breathing deeply. “Wouldn’t be if you did as I asked and fucked me sooner,” he points out, sounding petulant even to his own ears.

The movement of Merlin’s hand stops and for one, horrifying moment Arthur believes he’s truly fucked this up, but then he hears Merlin chuckle, feels him resume the thrusting of his hand as he pushes in with a third finger. Arthur gasps at the intrusion, unable to stop the whine tumbling out of his mouth.

“You’re right. It’s my fault,” Merlin admits, not really apologetic. “Let me make amends.”

And with that, he starts fucking Arthur with his fingers, setting up a punishing pace, not waiting very long before he adds a fourth finger, making Arthur whine and writhe against him more. It’s all too much and too soon and Arthur can’t wait another second.

“M-Merlin,” he all but sobs, feeling wetness gathering in the corners of his eyes from the intensity of Merlin’s ministrations. Just when he thinks it’s too much, when he thinks he’s going to come just like that, just from Merlin’s skillful, slender fingers stretching him open while Merlin keeps mouthing nonsensical words against the sweat-slick skin of Arthur’s neck, Merlin withdraws completely, earning a pitiful sob.

“Fuck, Arthur,” he moans and reaches over to grab the condom. Arthur can barely hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears and he jumps when Merlin’s hands settle on his hips again, but instead of pulling him on his cock, they prompt Arthur to stand upright, gently guiding him to turn around completely. Arthur follows the silent instruction without question, even as his mind reels.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, let alone ask for explanation. It’s not necessary anyway because Merlin proceeds to slide his hands down Arthur’s sides, his flanks, reaching around to grip him by the back of his thighs and pulling hard. Arthur only has a split second to process what Merlin wants him to do, and thankfully his body gets the memo faster than his brain because he braces himself on Merlin’s shoulders and jumps. It’s awkward, and graceless, and he’s pretty sure he squeals like a girl when his bare, sensitive ass lands on the hard, cold counter. None of it matters though. Not when Merlin is right there, stepping into the new space between Arthur’s legs, and Arthur wraps them around Merlin’s waist on reflex.

He only has a moment to appreciate the picture Merlin makes, his face flushed lovely pink which spreads down his neck, all the way to and over his chest, until it blends with the scattering of dark hair running down to his groin. 

His lips are red and puffy, way too much to be the result of their uncoordinated, frantic kissing. The more likely explanation is that Merlin’s been biting on them this whole time, to prevent himself from doing... well, honestly, Arthur can’t begin to imagine. Whatever it is, he hopes he gets to experience it one day. Preferably very soon.

Merlin’s hair is a mess, sticking in all directions, a few strands at the front damp with sweat and clinging to his forehead. There’s not a single trace of blue visible in his eyes, and Arthur has to catch himself from letting out an embarrassing whimper.

Because Merlin looks... etheral, for the lack of a better word. So different from the man Arthur’s known and lived with for years. But also not.

This is still Merlin. His Merlin. And Arthur is the luckiest bastard on the planet to have been granted the opportunity to have him like this.

“You’re beautiful,” Arthur breathes, shocked by the words as much as Merlin. Yes, shocked. But there’s no way he’s taking it back. Because Merlin is. Ridiculously beautiful, in fact. Arthur’s never associated that particular adjective with another man. Handsome - sure. Hot - why not? Attractive - naturally. But never beautiful.

Merlin gapes at him, wide-eyed and a little bit lost. He looks like he’s struggling to say something, but whatever it is Arthur will never know. Merlin’s lovely face settles in determination in the flip of a switch, and then his mouth is otherwise occupied, stealing Arthur’s breath away straight from his lungs.

Merlin doesn’t pull away, doesn’t stop kissing him even as he takes himself in hand and rests the head of his cock against Arthur’s wet opening, swallowing his moan.

Unwilling to stop kissing Merlin, Arthur lets his body speak. He winds his arms around Merlin’s back, pulling him impossibly closer while he digs his heels in Merlin’s lower back.

Merlin keeps his hands on the back of Arthur’s thighs, maneuvering and angling him as he pleases, until he’s satisfied with the result. Only then does he press forward, slowly but firmly, and fills Arthur up in one long, smooth push.

This time, it’s definitely a whimper that Arthur lets out, but then, _gosh then,_ Merlin moves, languid and sweet, and Arthur forgets to breathe, let alone think. From then on, everything blurs together, leaving Arthur’s mind blissfully blank, until the only thing he can focus on is Merlin. Merlin, and the way he moves against him, inside him. The slick, sweet slide of his mouth against Arthur’s, his strong, warm hands traveling over Arthur’s body as though he wants to map it and remember it just through his touch.

He has no idea how much time has passed when Merlin’s steady, sure rhythm falters for the first time, getting more and more uneven with each thrust. Arthur holds onto him, anchoring both Merlin and himself, soaking up the little huffing noises Merlin breathes into the crook of his neck. He slides one hand through Merlin’s hair, keeping him in place, turning his head to the side so he can press his lips to Merlin’s sweaty temple.

“Come on, Merlin,” he urges him on. “Come on, just like that. Let go.”

It occurs to him then that Merlin must have been avoiding Arthur’s sweet spot the whole time on purpose (something Arthur didn’t even register was missing), because after Arthur’s encouraging words, he shifts his hips, pulls at Arthur’s, and delivers a series of precise, hard thrusts against his prostate.

Arthur doesn’t get a change to process the situation before his body locks ups, his thighs squeezing around Merlin’s waist so hard it must hurt, but Merlin doesn’t say anything. He only picks up the pace, driving into Arthur’s body over and over until Arthur shakes and spills into the space between them, coating both their bellies with his release.

Merlin follows only seconds later until he, too, stills and stiffens, his cock buried fully in Arthur’s ass as he comes, letting out a sound that could be both a growl or whine.

“Shit,” he huffs against Arthur’s neck as he comes down from his high. “Shit,” he repeats and slowly disentangles himself from Arthur’s hold, moving his hands to Arthur’s waist as he pulls out, making Arthur wince a little. “Sorry,” he mumbles incoherently and presses a shaky kiss to Arthur’s brows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Arthur replies hoarsely and gives Merlin a shaky smile. “That was...” he starts, looking for a more articulate expression than a silly _wow_ to do justice to what just happened. He doesn’t finish his thought because in the next instance, his gaze falls on Merlin’s hands on his waist. He frowns.

“Merlin? Why are your knuckles bruised?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I never knew how much I use God's name in vain. Oh, well, if the shoe fits...
> 
> I'm giving you a little peek into Merlin's head, so the first section is from his POV, and in past tense. I'm not sure why I changed the tense for that part, I just started writing and it happened and when I was editing, I found out I actually liked it. It had a bit different feel. The rest of the chapter is from Arthur's POV again and back to present tense. I hope you don't find it irritating. If you do, let me know and I can rewrite.
> 
> Now, enjoy the final chapter. It was fun to write!

Merlin foolishly thought he’d have an opportunity to reflect on his actions and enough time to properly panic if he excused himself to take a shower. He didn’t exactly count on Arthur to usher him to the bathroom himself _and_ join Merlin in the shower stall (which was in no way suited to fit two grown men). Merlin was still a bit tipsy, his brain too fucked out to process the situation, let alone object to it. Did he actually want to object to it? He didn’t even know anymore.

Not that it mattered. Trying to be level-headed would be all but redundant now, after all they... after all _he_ had done. To Arthur. Oh God, the things he’d _done to Arthur,_ the things he’d _said._ What was worse - he’d meant it. All of it. He didn’t remember a time he hadn’t felt that way.

“Why do you look so morose? Isn’t orgasm supposed to make you all relaxed and floaty?” Arthur snickered as he squeezed out a dollop of shower gel into his palm, rubbing both hands together to create lather before soaping up his chest and belly. Because... that’s where he’d come all over himself. As Merlin fucked him.

Shit.

“Guess I’m just tired,” Merlin not-really lied. He _was_ tired. He’d been tired the whole week, doing his best to remain blind and deaf to Arthur’s blatant, childish, irritating, irresistible flirtation. Merlin had gotten a hard-on pretty much every time Arthur touched him, however platonic the gesture had been. Hell, he’d been suffering a serious case of blue balls with just a single look Arthur had sent his way. Fucking pathetic. He could control himself, goddammit! And he’d done a great job of it, too. Until tonight. Obviously.

“Oh,” Arthur said, quirking his mouth mischievously. “In that case, let me.”

Before Merlin could ask what he’d meant, Arthur was squeezing out more shower gel and prompting him to turn around. Merlin did so with a confused frown, his body following the instruction on auto-pilot. He was quite sure he was brain dead already.

Next thing he knew, Arthur’s large, warm hands were sliding down his back, both gentle and firm, and Merlin had to suppress an embarrassing, surprised squeal.

“What, um, what are you doing?” he asked breathlessly as Arthur’s hands trailed down and over his ass, then up over his hips and sides, making him squirm since those were his ticklish spots. His hands circled Merlin’s shoulders before slipping down his arms, gently massaging his muscles. Merlin bit his lip to keep in all the sounds that were threatening to slip out.

Arthur’s hands disappeared then, and Merlin already mourned the loss even as he let out an inaudible sigh in relief. His peace didn’t last long, because next Arthur’s hands were back, more lather covering them. And, God, they were travelling down his front! They grazed Merlin’s nipples which hardened immediately under the touch, his breath coming out in short puffs of air.

Arthur’s own breath ghosted over the side of Merlin’s neck when he plastered himself to his back, pressing his half-hard cock against Merlin’s tailbone. One of his hands kept teasing at Merlin’s nipples while the other made its way down, following the trail of dark hair down the middle, until it reached the coarse hair of his groin, knuckles bumping his cock that was already full mast. Merlin wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get so hard so quickly. He’d just had sex 15 minutes ago!

But... this was Arthur, after all. Arthur, who’d been starring in all his fantasies ever since the first day they’d met. Arthur, who had always been so close, and yet so far. So out of reach.

Arthur, who wanted someone else.

“Arthur!” Merlin yelped as Arthur’s hand closed around his length, pumping it leisurely, as though they’d been doing this for years.

Arthur mouthed the wet skin of Merlin’s nape, placing a reverent kiss just behind his ear. “Hmm,” he hummed contentedly, reminding Merlin of all the times he’d made a similar sound when tasting Merlin’s cooking. “I want to make you feel good,” he confessed lowly, like sharing a secret. “What would you like me to do?”

Jesus Christ, there wasn’t enough paper and ink in the world to list all the things Merlin wanted him to do. Things he wanted to do to _him._

“Arthur, come on,” he pleaded. “We just...”

Arthur huffed against his ear. “You’re seriously underestimating how much I want you. God, if my ass wasn’t throbbing like crazy, I’d let you have me again. Have you take me right here, fuck me against the wall.”

Speaking of walls, Merlin had to brace himself against one, otherwise he was risking collapsing to the floor with the rush Arthur’s words had caused.

“Sho-Shower sex is very dangerous, Arthur,” was the only reply he managed. It made Arthur laugh.

“Sounds exciting,” he commented, stroking up and down Merlin’s cock and slowly picking up the pace. “Another time. I’m willing to settle for this for now.” And with that, he put all his focus into making Merlin come with just his hand. To Merlin’s mortification, he hadn’t even had time to protest before he was gasping out Arthur’s name and shooting all over his hand and the wall, thanking all the deity that he’d had half the mind to support himself and thus not crumble to the floor with the force his knees buckled.

Behind him Arthur let out a deep growl, milking Merlin’s cock ‘til the last drop and rutting his own against the small of Merlin’s back and between his cheeks.

“Fuck,” he uttered. “Fuck, Merlin.”

Hearing his name fall out of Arthur’s lips snapped Merlin out of his post-orgasmic daze, but left his mind hazy enough that he was unable to make any sound decisions.

“Wait,” he said, slowly turning around until he was chest to chest with Arthur, nearly suffering a stroke from the dark look he found in Arthur’s eyes. Unable to resist, he rushed forward, pressing their lips together in a bruising kiss. That was all he allowed himself before he carefully slid to his knees, wincing when they came to contact with the cold, hard tiles. He ignored the pain, reaching to grip Arthur’s dripping cock in his hand, gazing up at him from his position.

Arthur’s mouth fell open on a silent gasp as he took in the picture Merlin made. He managed a soft, incredulous _Merlin_ before he choked on air as the heat of Merlin’s mouth engulfed him. He let out a hiss when Merlin’s teeth gently grazed over the tip, but Merlin felt him leak on his tongue, so he repeated the action.

Arthur’s right hand tangled in Merlin’s hair, the left one coming down to rest on his shoulder for support and he let out a string of sounds and unidentifiable words, among which Merlin recognized his name.

It took only a few more seconds before Arthur’s hips gave a few involuntary, tiny jerks, his fingers in Merlin’s hair tightening to a painful level that Merlin loved. Encouraged, Merlin let Arthur slide into his throat completely, until he was fully lodged inside, then flicked his gaze up.

Arthur’s bright, blue eyes widened, then fell shut. He gave a loud shout of Merlin’s name just seconds from spilling himself in his mouth, whimpering when Merlin’s throat spasmed around him as he swallowed down his release.

Gently, he let Arthur slip from his mouth, relishing the soreness of his lips and the ache of his jaw and the back of his throat. He would remember this for days.

Arthur suddenly grabbed him by his upper arms, hoisting him up until they were standing face to face. He gave him a long, unnerving, dumbstruck look, then pulled him in for a heated kiss. He licked along the seam of his lips, prompting him to part them so he could dip his tongue inside. Merlin granted his wish, feeling his cock give an interested twitch when Arthur hummed as he tasted himself. Merlin’s hands came to cradle Arthur’s face, rubbing soothingly over the raised edges of his cheekbones as he continued mapping Arthur’s mouth with his lips and tongue. Arthur’s own hands found their way around Merlin’s waist, settling on his mid back, keeping them flush, until their heartbeats synced.

Merlin didn’t know how long they kissed. It was long enough for him to forget why he wasn’t supposed to let this happen, why he should’ve kept saying no. His lips tingled with overuse and he spared a few more, closemouthed kisses, then pulled away ever so slightly, taking in a shaky breath.

Arthur’s eyes were still closed when Merlin opened his. He took those few, precious seconds to rake his gaze over Arthur’s face, mapping it so he could keep it in long-term memory. It was quite unnecessary. Merlin had already filed away every little detail of Arthur’s whole body. Ages ago.

For the first time since Arthur had brought it up, Merlin noticed the state of his right hand, the red and slightly purplish color of his knuckles, and his stomach twisted uncomfortably, guilt settling in. He’d lied his way out with a vague explanation about a pub fight with some bloke who’d pissed him off. Judging by Arthur’s raised eyebrow, he hadn’t quite believed it - and Merlin didn’t blame him, after all it wasn’t like Merlin to lose his temper and go around punching people because they acted like dicks - but hadn’t pushed for details.

To tell the truth, Merlin didn’t remember anything that had happened after he left the pub. Not until he’d got home and seen Arthur standing in the kitchen, practically half-naked, confused and fucking perfect.

He didn’t remember because the second he’d left the pub, the only thing that had kept playing in his mind on repeat like a broken record had been a litany of _mine mine mine_.

And then, _God then,_ he’d crossed the room, and Arthur had been naked, and he had been naked, and _for fuck’s sake, Arthur had sucked his cock and Merlin had wanted so, so badly to get on his knees and eat his sweet ass out, but then Arthur had said all those things, all those things he’d wanted to do with Merlin, and Merlin was lost, unable to do anything but comply with his wishes._

And then it was over and Arthur had asked. And Merlin had remembered and shit, he’d felt so bad. Because no matter how entitled he’d thought he’d been when he’d clocked Gwaine in his smug face for saying all that stuff. Gwaine was still a friend. And it didn’t matter that Merlin was in love with his best friend, because... because Arthur was not his. He had no right to act like that.

“Merlin? What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, pulling him back from his thoughts. He followed Merlin’s gaze, taking him by the wrist and inspecting the bruises with a calm expression. And to Merlin’s utter shock, he placed a gentle kiss on each knuckle, while rubbing his thumb over Merlin’s palm.

“I know this isn’t like you,” he said quietly. “Until today, I’ve thought you wouldn’t be able to hurt a fly. So I know that whatever the reason, the bloke had it coming to him. You’re not one to throw punches lightly.” He was so earnest, so convinced of Merlin’s goodness, and it just made the guilt worse.

The bottom line was, no matter how much he wanted, how much he wished for it, Merlin had no right to Arthur. Regardless of his feelings, Arthur could do whatever - or, God help him, whoever - he wanted, and Merlin just had to suck it up and stop acting like a jealous girlfriend.

And he had been doing so well, too. Arthur had literally _begged_ him for sex, several times in fact! And still, Merlin had managed to keep his composure, to follow reason instead of his dick, dodging his advances on every corner. Because no matter how much he’d been wanting to give in, no matter he _had given in_ , there was no way he could allow this to continue.

Arthur was just curious. He wanted to experiment. And Merlin was his best friend, the most trusted person, so of course he would be the logical choice. But he didn’t want to be the logical choice. He wanted to be _the choice_. The only choice. Arthur’s only choice. But Arthur didn’t like him that way. He liked him plenty. But not that way. And that made all the difference. As much as he wanted Arthur, because _Jesus,_ he would never forget what it had felt like when Arthur had given himself up and over to him, willingly and wantonly, never ever. Still, he refused to be play a part in Arthur’s experimentation, not any more than he already had. And he’d been doing so well!

Until Gwaine had opened his big, incorrigible, potty mouth. That had immediately set Merlin back to the starting line, all his hard work in vain. Because no, he didn’t just want to be Arthur’s fuck buddy.

But he also didn’t want Arthur to have other fuck buddies.

And what the hell, had Arthur been lying to him all this time? He’d said he’d wanted to have sex again with Merlin. _With Merlin. Specifically._ Because he trusted him. Because he knew him. And because they’d already done it once. And _Arthur had loved it_.

And Merlin foolishly thought he’d loved it because it was with him. That he was special. According to what Gwaine had said, Arthur simply loved sex with another bloke. Loved it enough to find another... provider if Merlin refused to step up to the role.

So, yeah, Merlin probably had it coming. He knew it had been his doing and yet he couldn’t make peace with the fact. So he’d thrown all his beliefs, his determination to give up this part of Arthur if he couldn’t have it all out of the window. He couldn’t have it all, but he’d be damned if he let a fucking stranger take this part of Arthur away as well. No way in hell.

So screw the consequences, screw that he was about to get hurt like nobody’s business, screw his integrity. He would make bloody sure to rock Arthur’s world so much he would never have a single stray thought of asking this of anyone else. He would _ruin_ Arthur for anyone else. Any man, that is. As for women, well, there are ships you couldn’t stop from sailing.

He just had to work with what he had. One step at a time, and soon Arthur would never think of another man ever again.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said dismissively, shooting Arthur a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Want some mac n’ cheese?”

***

The past few days are a blur. Time’s been passing so quickly Arthur would swear it’s been a week, but it’s not even the weekend yet. It’s been just a few days, then. A few days of constant fucking and, God help him, outright love-making at some points.

Arthur has no idea what happened that made Merlin snap and his resolve shatter, but whatever it was, it was a bloody godsent. Because those few days? One of The. Best. Days of Arthur’s life.

He is _aching._ His muscles and bones stiff from the way his body has bent in incredible shapes and angles. His jaw is sore, his lips chapped. His ass is throbbing, a sensation he became familiar with sometime after the second day of being pounded within an inch of his life. Not that it stopped him from welcoming Merlin inside his body again after that. He doubts there’s anything that would prevent him from wanting Merlin again. In fact-

“Yeah,” he breathes out heavily, resting his cheek on his folded arms, inching his legs further apart to make the access easier for Merlin and his questing fingers. God, he loves those fingers. “Come on. Have me again.”

His body gives an involuntary twitch as Merlin rubs his thumb over Arthur’s puffy opening. He makes a displeased sound.

“You’re too tender for that. It will hurt you.”

Arthur huffs. “I’ve been tender for days, that haven’t stopped you from nailing me to every surface of this flat.” He groans loudly as he recalls the vivid memory of Merlin bending him over the kitchen table that morning.

“Well, in that case it’s about bloody time I do stop.” And to Arthur’s dismay, his hand withdraws.

“Meeeerlin,” he whines, shooting him a death glare over his shoulder.

Merlin chuckles in amusement. “You’re greedy.”

“You like it,” Arthur retorts and earns himself a playful slap to his butt. “Oi!”

“How about I make it up to you?” Merlin’s tone is suggestive, dark. Arthur’s kind of developed a Pavlovian reflex to that particular tone and sure enough his cock leaks in response.

“It better be good,” he grumbles, but doesn’t protest.

“Oh, don’t worry. We both know you’ll like this one.”

He groans loudly when Merlin shuffles down his body, parts his cheeks with a firm grip and licks a long, broad stripe from his balls to his tailbone.

“Ohh, fuck.” Of course Merlin is right, as always. He gathered enough evidence for that particular fact just yesterday, after he’d come while plowing Arthur into oblivion, then flipped onto his back, made Arthur straddle his face and rimmed him until he was sobbing, spilling without a single touch to his cock.

“I take it you approve?” Merlin asks cheekily, his voice muffled against Arthur’s skin.

Arthur won’t give him the satisfaction of replying. Instead, he arches his back and reaches behind himself with one hand, fingers threading through the silk of Merlin’s hair as he pulls his head down. Merlin just laughs, low and sexy, and obliges. As he always does.

The best. Week. Ever.

***

Arthur is a happy camper. He’s good. Life’s good. Things are great.

There’s just one little detail.

“Dios Mio, you have any idea what time it is?” Gwaine grunts from the other side of the phone.

Arthur pulls the phone away to check the clock. “9:30?”

“On a Saturday!” Gwaine stresses, genuinely appalled as though Arthur just committed a crime of the century.

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Sorry. I’ll buy you a pint, how about that?” He doesn’t wait for a reply. “Listen, I have a problem. A... complication. Unforeseen circumstances, one could say.”

He hears some shuffling from the other side. “Oh?”

“Yeah. You know what we talked about last time?” He can’t believe he’s about to talk to Gwaine about _this._ It’s even worse than all the other stuff he’s asked him about. But _he is desperate._

 _“_ You mean the seduction plan?”

“For fuck’s sake, it wasn’t- That’s not the issue.”

“Oh, really? Does it mean the seduction plan worked?”

“Stop calling it that!”

“Well, it is kinda-”

“It worked! Happy?” This was mortifying.

“It did? I mean, of course it did! My advice is priceless! Congrats, Arthur! I’m happy for you, guys.”

Arthur frowns to himself. “Guys?”

There’s a second of hesitation. “Sure. You and your friend from work?”

 _Oh. Right._ “Right,” he says out loud. “Yeah, that worked. But I have a complication,” he repeats. “So, we’ve been having sex like... the whole week.” He blushes fiercely when Gwaine whoops theatrically. “And... it’s been good. Great even. But, um, that’s what it is. Just sex. And I, um, not sure that’s what I want. I mean, I know it’s not.” Here it comes. “I really like him, Gwaine. I want to date him.”

There’s a loud thud on Gwaine’s side, followed by a groan and a distorted _fuck._

 _“_ Gwaine?”

“I’m here!” he calls, then yelps indignantly. “What the fuck, Arthur?”

“I know, I know.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “This whole thing is a mess. I mean, we’ve been having sex this whole time and I thought maybe, maybe we could become more than friends with benefits. And I’ve been giving him signals, you know? Saying all the nice stuff, touching him casually outside of... you know. But whenever I try and touch him, let alone kiss him, he’s so... withdrawn. I just... I don’t know what to do.”

This has been so confusing. Arthur would swear Merlin felt the same way. The way he touches Arthur when they have sex, how much time he takes with foreplay, how he cuddles Arthur after... he must _feel something_ , right?

So Arthur put himself out there, let his affections pour out of him. But whenever he tries to get close - hug Merlin from behind and kiss his ear while he cooks (just like he tried 5 minutes ago while Merlin was scrambling a half dozen eggs for breakfast and squirmed out of Arthur’s hold), cuddle with him on the couch as they watch silly sitcoms, kiss him goodbye before he leaves for work or kiss him hello when he comes home - Merlin finds a sneaky way out, always an excuse at hand. And Arthur’s not an idiot. He knows when his advances are not welcome. The thing is... he might be in deep. Like really, really deep.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Gwaine exclaims exasperatedly. “You’ve got to be fucking joking.”

“What?”

“Did you seriously make him believe you were only interested in bumping uglies?!”

Arthur makes a face. “Maybe at first I was only interested in that. But I already liked him back then. I didn’t know that we would... that I would...” _That I would fall._

“I swear to God, you two,” Gwaine growls, suddenly wide awake and not happy.

“What are you-”

“Do I have to do all the work for you? Haven’t I done enough? How much do you need to get it through those thick skulls of yours?!”

“Gwaine?”

“Morons.” Is the last Arthur hears before the line goes dead. He pulls the phone away, starring at it, utterly confused and baffled. What the hell did just happen?

“Arthur!” He drops the phone with a high-pitched yelp. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Coming!” he calls back, picks up the phone and reluctantly makes his way to the kitchen, frowning. What the hell was that?

Merlin has already plated up for both of them and coffee is almost done brewing too. Arthur feels a fleeting, yet not unusual pang of guilt for being completely useless in the kitchen. No wonder Merlin has no interest in him outside of bedroom (figuratively speaking, of course), he’d be a lousy boyfriend. A dead weight.

He takes the chair opposite Merlin, spares a quiet but sincere _thank you_ for the wonderful breakfast and digs in. It tastes like ash.

***

He’s almost done with washing the dishes when there is a demanding knocking on the door. Merlin glances away from the telly, locking gaze with Arthur.

“Expecting someone?” he asks, the same question on the tip of Arthur’s tongue. He shakes his head.

“No.” He finishes with the frying pan, wipes his hands on the tea towel and goes open the door only to reveal a disheveled Gwaine.

“Gwaine?”

Gwaine gives him a sarcastic smile. “Glad you can still recognize me after having your brains fucked out for a week. Now, if you don’t mind,” and he squeezes himself inside, elbowing Arthur in the process.

On the other side of the room, Merlin’s stood up from the couch, posture rigid as he stares at Gwaine, then Arthur, then Gwaine.

“Hey,” he croaks, hands curled into fists. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving the disaster that’s your relationship,” he snarks.

“What- What relationship?” Merlin stammers.

“Exactly!”

“What?”

Gwaine throws his head back, staring at the ceiling. “God help me.” And his stormy expression lands on the two of them. “You two are truly the poorest, stupidest, hopeless sons of bitches I’ve ever come across. And then some.” He turns around and walks to the kitchen, pulling a beer from the fridge and taking a long sip. “I can’t believe I even bother with you two. But I can’t deal with any more of your whining and pining.”

“What pining?” they ask simultaneously, earning an eyeroll.

“Okay. Okay,” Gwaine says and downs the rest of the beer in one go. “Okay,” he repeats, rubbing his temples as though he’s fighting off a headache. “I’m done tip-toeing around you so this is gonna be harsh. Remember that I love you, guys. Well, I don’t love you right now, I’m fucking done with you, but I’ll be fine in five minutes, okay?”

“What are you-”

“I’ll give you a rundown on this cluster-fuck you have going on here, yeah?” He turns to Arthur first. “Arthur, Merlin’s ass over tits in love with you.” Merlin lets out an undignified yelp. “Totally smitten, useless like the case cover for Nokia 3310. He’s been pining over your dumb ass for years and guess who’s had to listen to all that shit?” He points at himself dramatically, ignorant of the way Arthur’s gaping at him like a fish on land. He turns to Merlin.

“Merlin, at first Arthur was hot for your dick, now he’s hot for your... well, your whole, pitiful existence. So if you could please smooch him and snuggle with him even when you’re not balls deep in his pert ass, that would be great.”

Deafening silence follows, both of them staring at Gwaine like the idiots they are, before Merlin snaps. “Gwaine, what the ever-loving fuck?!”

“Oh, please! It was getting ridiculous.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not- We’re not-” He waves in Arthur’s direction. “Arthur’s pining over that bloke from work!”

“What?” Arthur freezes. “How did you-”

“Seriously? You still don’t get it?”

It’s in that moment that, for the first time since Gwaine stormed into the flat, Arthur notices a yellowish hue around his left eye and cheekbone.

“Oh my God! You punched Gwaine!”

Merlin’s mouth opens and closes, desperately looking for words.

“Wow. It only took you like... a week,” Gwaine mocks, shaking his head incredulously. “You wanna guess why Merlin punched me?”

“Because you said some shit as usual?”

“Because he was jealous!”

“What?”

“I wasn’t jealous!”

“You were so jealous. And I wanted you to be. How else was I gonna get you to come to your senses and fuck the guy who’d been begging you to and who, mind you, you’re totally gone on?”

“You-” Merlin chokes. “You planned it?”

“Duuuh!”

“What did you say?” Arthur asks, then turns to Merlin. “What did he say?”

“There will be time for that,” Gwaine waves a hand in dismissal. “And really, Arthur? A guy from work? A gay guy from work you’ve never uttered a word about before? Just how stupid do you think I am?”

“Well...”

“Careful.” Gwaine holds up a threatening finger. “So far I’ve been on your team. Don’t make me regret it.”

Arthur snaps his mouth shut.

“Now, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but could you pleaaaase talk and sort out this mess you’ve gotten yourself into?”

Gwaine sounds desperate enough that Arthur and Merlin share a look. In a sudden surge of bravery, Arthur takes a few, tentative steps closer, Merlin watching with wide, scared eyes.

“I... I don’t know what he said to you, but... whatever it was, it was a lie. Well, most of it. There’s no guy at work. There’s no one at all. No one but you.”

Merlin doesn’t reply right away, the only sound in the room is his heavy breathing and Arthur’s blood rushing in his ears. He licks his lips, peering at Arthur coyly from under his eyelashes.

“For sex, you mean?”

“No,” Arthur rushes to say, stepping even closer until he can feel the heat of Merlin’s body. “No. Never. I want everything. I want _you_.” Merlin’s eyes glisten with what Arthur recognizes is hope. “You’re my best friend and you always will be. I want to watch you cook us breakfast while I try and fail to make coffee. I want us sitting on the couch and watching whatever shit comes up in the telly. I want to argue about pineapples on pizza,” Gwaine makes a gagging sound which Arthur ignores, “and about who the strongest Avenger is.”

“Wanda, obviously,” Gwaine supplies, gaining two unimpressed glares.

“And I want to have sex. And I want to cuddle with you while we nap. I want to kiss you when I get home from work, or vice versa. I want to kiss you after I wake up when we both still have a serious case of morning breath. And I want to kiss you at every moment between. I just... _I want you.”_

He swears he can feel his heart in his throat and his stomach lurching dangerously with nerves. Shit, if he throws up after pouring his heart out, he’s never gonna live it down.

But Merlin’s still not saying anything. He’s just looking at Arthur, staring right into his soul, and his eyes have never been so blue.

Gwaine is the first to snap, throwing his hands in the air. “For fuck’s sake, Emrys, just kiss the bloody idiot. Or I’ll do it for you.”

It’s enough motivation to prompt Merlin into action. He reaches for Arthur with both hands, grabbing him by his dumbstruck face and pulling him into a graceless, clumsy kiss. Arthur is pretty sure it’s the best kiss he’s ever had.

“Fucking halelujah!” Gwaine all but yells, but neither of them cares, too preoccupied with clutching on each other like a lifeline.

When they finally separate, not without a pitiful whine on Arthur’s part, Merlin whispers into the space between them, “I want you, too. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve always loved you.”

Arthur blinks rapidly, presses their foreheads together to maintain some dignity. He can’t cry in front of Merlin, he won’t.

“I think I have, too. It’s just taken my dumb ass a while to figure out.” Merlin laughs softly. “Forgive me?”

“Always.”

They share one last kiss, the most tender of all, before Gwaine’s voice breaks the peace again.

“Alright, darlings. My work here is done. I’ll send you the bill later. For now,” he dangles a six-pack of beer in the air, “I keep these as upfront payment. I’m sure you understand.” And with that he calmly walks out of the flat, leaving flabbergasted Merlin and Arthur to their devices.

They share a look.

Merlin’s eyes twinkle with mischief.

Arthur’s lips stretch in a smirk. “I believe it’s customary to consummate declarations of love?”

“How convenient. I was just thinking the same thing.” He leans in for another kiss, Arthur sighing happily. Everything has finally fallen into place.

And it’s all thanks to Gwaine.

***

”Hey, Merlin?” Arthur asks quietly, tangling his legs with Merlin’s even more.

“Yeah?”

“What exactly did Gwaine say to make you lose your temper? I mean, it’s _Gwaine._ He always talks rubbish. It must have been pretty bad.”

Merlin’s expression doesn’t give anything away, his face a mask of serenity and indifference. But Arthur’s watching him closely and for a split second he witnesses a dangerous glint in his eyes. It’s almost foreign, except... Arthur has seen this. Only once. Right before Merlin took him on the kitchen counter.

His body gives a reflexive shiver. Merlin notices, of course, and with a wicked quirk of lips he throws himself at Arthur and proceeds to kiss the living daylights out of him.

Arthur eventually forgets he asked a question, but then Merlin says, “Tomorrow, I’ll tell you. Right now there are more important matters at hand.”

Arthur blinks at him. “Oh?” And Merlin just smirks again before he presses Arthur firmly into the mattress, and with a heated gaze he disappears under the covers.

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, his breath leaving him in a whoosh. _Yes. Very important._

***

_“You look quite ragged, my friend. Trouble in paradise?”_

_“What paradise?”_

_“Ah, you know. You and your roomie?”_

_“What about it?”_

_“I’ve been wondering if Arthur told you.”_

_“Told me what?”_

_“Oh, I shouldn’t say. It was just between us. Confidentiality and all.”_

_“Gwaine, stop being a bloody tease.”_

_“That’s what they all say.”_

_“Gwaine!”_

_“Okay, okay. Calm your horses. Sheesh. Well, apparently there’s someone Arthur’s been lusting after.”_

_“What?”_

_“Yeah. Someone at work.”_

_“Oh. No, he didn’t tell me about her.”_

_“Him.”_

_“What?”_

_“A guy, apparently. Name’s_ Owain _?”_

_“Never heard of him.”_

_“Hmm. How curious.”_

_“What did he say?”_

_“I really shouldn’t say.”_

_“Gwaine, I swear to God-”_

_“He’s been trying to get the guy to do some horizontal tango with him. The bloke is gay, he says, and let’s face it, only a ball-less fool would say no to a candy like Arthur. But it seems he’s barking up the wrong tree. The guy’s been giving some mixed signals, but doesn’t really seem to be interested.”_

_“I can’t believe it.”_

_“Anyways, I told him there’s plenty fish in the sea. And with the way Arthur looks, he can get anyone he wants, whenever he wants.”_

_“Gwaine, what did you do?”_

_“I didn’t do anything. I just told him as much and gave him some advice.”_

_“You gave him advice?”_

_“Yeah. With that, there’s no way he’s not gonna pull. I mean, if it were me I wouldn’t say no. Told him as much.”_

_“What?”_

_“Come on, Merlin. You’ve seen that ass, right? If Arthur were desperate, I could swoop in like a knight in shining armor and show him some really good time-- Ow, fucking hell, that hurt!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely hope this lived up to the hype. I really wanted to make Gwaine the hero here :D He deserves it after all the bullying he's suffered at the hands of my writing. 
> 
> Thank you everyone who kept commenting and supporting me. You truly are the best <3


End file.
